


Aaron Burr, sir

by anotherfngrl



Series: The Alexander Hamilton D/s Verse [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Dom Aaron Burr, Dom/sub, Dominance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote a d/s verse, Kneeling, M/M, Multi, Protectiveness, Punishment, Slow Burn, Spanking, Sub Alexander Hamilton, Submission, Time Skips, lying about his dynamic, pre-Alexander/Burr, the Burr/Laurens is in the past, this is a d/s verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherfngrl/pseuds/anotherfngrl
Summary: Aaron Burr wants Alexander Hamilton from the moment he meets him, but the other man denies his submission and the moment never seems right. He continues to wait for it, looking after the captivating young sub as well as he can. After losing the election to Thomas Jefferson, he writes Alexander a letter, determined to clear the air once and for all.**This is a D/S verse take on Hamilton. Everyone's orientation will become clear.**
Relationships: Aaron Burr/Alexander Hamilton, Aaron Burr/John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton & John Laurens & Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette & Hercules Mulligan, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens/Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan, John Laurens/Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan, Maria Reynolds/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Series: The Alexander Hamilton D/s Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919644
Comments: 87
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1: They Meet

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is entirely because of the moment at the end of The Story of Tonight when Burr is standing in the shadows waiting to enter, because it felt so intentional that we could see him, not only on the stage but in the video, and then I realized he's following them during the Rise Up part of My Shot, and I had the sudden image of him waiting to walk Alexander home. But why would he do that? D/S verse is obviously the only reasonable explanation. I'll list everyone's orientations at the end, in case it gets confusing- some of them lie, publicly!  
> Fair warning, part two is "Your Obedient Servant". Things get dark! (No character death within the fic, though!)

“Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?” With those words, his life had changed forever. If only he’d known. Still, years later, even knowing how it all played out, Burr can’t bring himself to regret knowing Alexander.

He remembers that first meeting as he sits down to write Hamilton a letter, as the newly elected Vice President of the United States.No title has ever felt so much like failure. He’s tried things Hamilton’s way- he’s stopped waiting and reached out to seize what he wants, the way he never could with the man himself. And it’s backfired on him horribly. Hamilton’s non-stop persona doesn’t work for him- he’s a planner. A thinker.

There are people who are surprised that someone as reticent as him is a Dom. It’s a common misconception that Doms are all blowhards, just like some old-school idiots think only men can be dominant. He challenges anyone who thinks that to meet Angelica Schuyler. He made the mistake of assuming her orientation early on, and he’d smarted for it. He’d made a lot of mistakes, early on.

He remembers the night he’d met Alexander. All the things he’d thought, and assumed, and wanted that first night. And how it had all played out.

***

“Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?” he looks up from his book, surprised. He’s used to being recognized on campus, but usually on the street he’s only approached by people he knows. This man- he blinks, looking at him again, and begins paying a  _ lot _ more attention as he mentally corrects himself- this  _ gorgeous _ submissive is someone he’d definitely remember meeting.

The energy of the other man is electric. And if his long hair, pulled back away from his face in a curly ponytail Burr can’t help finding  _ adorable _ , hadn’t given away his orientation, the nervous, almost deferential way he calls him ‘sir’ would have, however direct his introduction had been. The man is shaky, practically vibrating with excitement, and has trouble meeting his eyes at first, which he overcorrects into a piercing gaze. Burr instantly wants to take care of him, to soothe that tension.

The sub has apparently forgotten his manners, so Burr prompts him for his name. He gives it with a quick bow, his mind obviously already moving forward with what he wants to say. Burr isn’t sure if it’s nervousness or excitement- maybe both, he suspects.

He’s surprised no apology accompanies the rushed formalities- the submissive is moving on so quickly in his eagerness he doesn’t even seem to notice the mild censure. Another dominant would grab him by the hair, stop him,  _ make _ him apologize for the lapse. Burr finds himself charmed by the enthusiasm instead and smiles supportively as Alexander continues.

It’s unusual for an unattached- Burr assumes, he doesn’t see a collar- submissive to approach a Dom like this, but he supposes in public it’s not scandalous- maybe he has no Dom to accompany him. Still, the brash way the young man says, “I’ve been looking for you,” surprises him.

“I’m getting nervous,” Burr teases this unusual submissive, waiting to hear what he needs. If it’s within his power, Burr already knows he’ll grant it.

Alexander explains his dreams with a charming enthusiasm, but also a steely determination that Aaron finds himself admiring. He’s not stupid, indeed. He can well imagine the bursar, with his love of rules and order and belief in traditional dynamic roles, had been less than helpful to the young man. Still, he’s shocked at the submissive’s brashness.

“You punched the bursar?” he asks, stunned. Alexander Hamilton is clearly a force of nature, like one of those tropical storms. He finds himself wanting to tame that energy, to shape and guide it- to give Alexander the direction he needs to make his dreams come true.

He’d be swept away in the storm, Burr realizes. Alexander Hamilton pauses for no man, he can already tell. It doesn’t make him want him any less, but he has to be sensible- he can’t throw his future away on a pretty submissive he’s just met.

So instead of answering the transparent plea for guidance- and it’s further proof that Alexander isn’t the kind of submissive he could build a life with, the way he asks what  _ Burr _ did instead of asking for help or even what Burr thinks  _ he _ should do- he dismisses him with the painful truth of his own motivations for his accelerated course of study. Few people know how to respond to that kind of sudden revelation, especially from a stranger.

But Alexander, he’s already realizing, is like no other person he’s ever known, dynamic aside. So his excitement at this piece of information is hardly surprising. “You’re an orphan? Of course! I’m an orphan!” he announces, and Burr feels himself carried along by the fellow feeling of it. When the other man wishes for war, he forgets all of his resolve to keep his distance, overcome by the need to protect this young submissive who clearly has no one else.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he offers, reckless. Burr doesn’t visit the taverns often. His landlady sees to his meals until he finds a submissive of his own and sets up a proper household, and he doesn’t see much use in whiling away the hours with drunken boasting when he could be studying. Still, he’s already closed his book, almost without realizing it. Alexander is just too captivating, too openly needy and brashly unwilling to admit it- he can’t turn away.

The smile that offer gets him is so genuinely sweet and shyly pleased that he knows he’s lost. “That would be nice,” Alexander tells him, and Aaron Burr does the most reckless thing he’s ever done in his life- he falls in love.

As they walk to the tavern, he can’t help testing the waters, offering just a little bit of sound advice. If he can temper some of Alexander’s wildness, he has no doubt he can help the young sub succeed- he’ll talk to the bursar himself.

Alexander greets his advice with flat disbelief. Burr doesn’t let the disrespect bother him- this isn’t a submissive to be beaten into submission, and that’s not his style anyway. He’d much rather lead than force and Alexander is smart- he’ll see the sense in it soon enough.

Still, he’s sorely reminded of why he usually avoids taverns when they walk in and find the revolutionary set already well into their cups. Burr remembers who introduced him to this tavern too late- he’d last been here when he was still seeing John.

Burr is sensible enough to admit he has a type. Mouthy and secretly sweet, forcefully fighting their submission and so gorgeous when they give in. John is a switch, and he’d always made Burr work for it, but eventually he’d yielded and it had been a thing of beauty, the curls he keeps swept back wrapped tightly around Burr’s fingertips as he bent his neck.

In the end, John hadn’t been willing to settle for a life of submission, even to a Dom who was willing to give him his passions and support his career. Burr has his suspicions about John’s relationship with Hercules Mulligan, and he silently damns the Dom for not taking better care of his submissive, switch or no. The tailor’s apprentice keeps the revolutionary set alive, fed, and clothed, but Burr suspects he does very little actual leading.

Lafayette is the confusing third member of their party- the non dynamic Frenchman had caused quite a scandal when he’d arrived in New York, declaring dynamic something he wanted nothing to do with. That sort of thing is as rarely spoken about in the colonies as it is in England, but across the Channel it’s much more common. Burr knows he keeps company with the other two in more than their plans for the coming war, but he’s too much of a gentleman to let his mind dwell on how that works in the bedroom.

He wants to bang his head against the wall when Alexander is immediately taken with the trio. This is what he gets for being impulsive- he knows his own quiet planning isn’t nearly as attractive as the showy speeches the others give. Nevermind that his plans have the same ends, or that his restraint means he’s much more likely to live long enough to see them through.

And John is in top form tonight. He’s playing at dominance, obviously playing it up for his new audience, and Alexander is eating it up. Mulligan and Lafayette do nothing to curb it, spinning him up further instead of gentling him back to calm. Alexander watches in rapt fascination, Burr’s warnings ignored.

He gets them drinks, absurdly pleased when Alexander stays behind him instead of going over to introduce himself to the loud men at the largest table in the room. Everyone in the tavern is clearly watching the revolutionaries, and they’re just as clearly playing to their audience.

John pretends suddenly to notice them, walking up with a smile on his face and wrapping an arm around Burr to lead him toward their table. “Well, if it ain’t the prodigy of Princeton College!” he declares, and Burr winces. It’d been a point of contention between them, Burr’s preference of studying over boisterous gatherings. He’d come, over and over, because he was John’s Dom and it was his responsibility to keep him safe, but he’d sat in the back corner with a book every time until it was time to escort his submissive home. John had said it made him weak- cowardly. As if he’d have been dating John Laurens if he’d been afraid of being known as a revolutionary.

“Aaron Burr!” Mulligan greets him, unconcerned by his switch boyfriend's brash approach of another Dom.

“Give us a verse. Drop some knowledge!” John taunts, eyes sliding over to the submissive Burr’s arrived with, and he immediately understands the challenge. He hadn’t realized, until this moment, that the similarities between the two men don’t end in temperament. They could be brothers, with tanned skin and curly ponytails, eyes alight with passion and fervor. And John, who has always been so insecure about being a switch, about Burr having seen him kneel, who sees his own submission as weakness, is going to take this chance to get back a little of his own that he thinks he lost at Burr’s feet.

Still, he wishes John nothing but well. He won’t be drawn in, but he won’t shame the other man, press any of the buttons he knows to knock him down a peg in public. “Good luck with that, you’re takin’ a stand. You spit, I’ma sit, we’ll see where we land,” he tells John easily, not letting himself look back at Alexander.

Hercules and Lafayette, predictably, boo. He doesn’t let it bother him, smiling easily.

“Burr, the revolution’s imminent, what do you stall for?” John demands, with that old challenge in his eyes. The one that used to mean he wanted to act out now, just to have Burr remind him he had a place at his feet later. That’d been what eventually doomed them- Burr didn’t want to force a sub to his knees if he didn’t truly want to be there, and John wanted his submission wrenched from him so he could pretend it wasn’t his choice.

He turns away, determined to find a table for himself and Alexander and let his former lover have his fun at his expense. He’s surprised when Alexander speaks.

“If you stand for nothing, Burr, what will you fall for?” The words ring out in a tavern that suddenly feels strangely silent. Alexander looks straight ahead, not toward Burr but not toward John either, nervy and maybe even a little afraid of Burr’s reaction but obviously determined to make his point.

Aaron turns around, the smile slipping from his face. He’s not sure if Alexander is that bothered by his unassuming approach to revolution or if he’s just trying to impress the other men, but the effect is immediate.

The revolutionary set all turn toward Alexander, Lafayette even standing up from where he’d been seated on the table. The man can’t even use furniture normally. Alexander looks between Burr and the others, obviously hesitant, and Burr knows the situation is entirely in his hands. Every eye in the tavern is on him as they wait to see how he’ll handle the disrespect.

The ‘correct’ way would be to haul Alexander out and reprimand him severely. Whether they have any sort of formal agreement or not, they arrived together and there’s certain behavior expected of Alexander in exchange for accepting Burr’s invitation. He gets Burr’s protection for the evening and gives his deference in return, whether any relationship or physical encounter springs from it or not.

Socially, Burr could get away with far more than a verbal reprimand after behavior like that. No one in the bar (except John, probably) would think twice if he slapped the sub, or forced Alexander to apologize on his knees then and there. The submissive is obviously aware of what he’s risking by even daring to question him, nevermind so rudely.

Burr remembers again what he’d thought before about Alexander earlier- all that force blowing through, leaving devastation in its wake, but absolutely unstoppable if channeled properly. Burr’s reputation would fare better if he meted out some kind of punishment here and now, but it wouldn’t be best for the submissive Burr has already grown so fond of. Alexander needs and deserves the chance to spread his wings, and clipping them would only harm the beautiful sub in the long run.

So Burr lets the words pass unchecked, retreating to the corner to his book. He’ll let Alexander make his new friends, and then they can talk for a while before he sees the other man home. He’ll explain a little about why he’s so much quieter about his support for the revolution later, when they’re alone, and tell Alexander that if they’re going to see each other he won’t tolerate disrespect like that again. Alexander is free to think differently from him and to express those opinions, but Burr won’t be mocked by anyone who’s his.

He really hopes Alexander is going to be his.

For now, he turns away to wait. Charles gets up when he sees him, offering his seat, and Burr takes it with a grateful smile, rewarding the submissive’s thoughtfulness. Charles is a traditional sub in many ways, and he’s never liked being around dominants who are upset or out of sorts. Burr soothes him with a few quiet words, finding himself soothed by the opportunity to take care of someone else.

Alexander, meanwhile, is fast making new friends. The revolutionaries absorb him quickly, lost in their excitement and plans. Burr keeps a watchful eye on the people around them- this is friendly territory, certainly, but there are a few people scattered around who he doesn’t recognize, and he won’t see Alexander’s lack of discretion endanger him if he can help it.

He mainly watches the man Ariana Bullet is talking to- she’s on their side, absolutely, but where Ari goes trouble almost certainly follows. Luckily, the man seems obsessively focused on the pretty girl, ignoring the overexcited revolutionaries. Burr wishes, not for the first time, that Mulligan would at least insist they keep the actual treason talk out of mixed company if not behind closed doors.

Eventually, they get so loud the man talking to Ari actually seems to pay attention for a moment, and Burr gets up to buy a round of rum in the hopes of slowing them all down a little. He only gets four- he’d rather keep his wits about him.

He’s immediately reminded of why Alexander is worth all of this fuss when the over-excited submissive bows his head as he accepts the tot of rum. The sweetness of the gesture softens him a little, enough that he unbends to admit he’s with them, even as he scolds the group for their heedless chatter.

He almost feels guilty when he sees John’s face as he hands him a drink- the switch nods at him, jerky and slight, a compromise between Alexander’s mannerly response and the stubborn refusal to acknowledge him Burr had half expected. John is clearly in the space he’d always fallen into when he resisted subbing for too long, and Burr knows he could push him over the edge with a word. But it wouldn’t be fair- isn’t his place any longer. Even if John needs it. Even if he hates to see the other man so tense.

He decides it would be better to join them and takes a seat. Alexander excitedly introduces his new friends and Burr lets him, none of them interrupting the thrilled submissive to explain they’ve known each other a long time. Burr sticks with them through the revolutionaries’ playful flirtations, even Hercules’- he’d known the Dom had to be into other Doms, given certain remarks John has made since their breakup- until John starts getting handsy, retreating back to his quiet corner. No good will come of letting John Laurens feel him up in a tavern.

Even from across the room, he keeps a close eye on Alexander. Almost intervenes when he sees the other man get insecure, but John’s easy acceptance of him obviously soothes the submissive. Eventually they take the party to the streets, Alexander so excited he doesn’t even stop to check with Burr.

He follows anyway, keeping a careful eye on John and Lafayette as well. Technically, that’s Mulligan’s job, but the other Dom is clearly intoxicated and Burr feels a responsibility to all of them. They finally circle back to the deserted tavern for one final drink and, knowing the place will be closing soon and confident there are no other patrons to cause trouble, Burr waits outside.

He figures he’ll wind Alexander down on the walk back to the sub’s lodgings and they can talk tomorrow. He’ll take the young man to lunch and they can visit the college together afterwards. Maybe he’ll be able to pull some strings, and Alexander will have better luck with an escort. If not, there’s always King’s College. Either way, they’ll figure it out.

When Alexander comes out, he’s completely wrapped around John. The two men are clinging to one another, with Lafayette and Mulligan laughing along with them. Aaron stands up, emerging from the shadows.

Alexander and John startle, Alexander pulling away abruptly. John pulls him back against his side. “What are you doing here?” the switch demands rudely. Alexander is looking awkwardly at the ground, clearly feeling caught out. His easy delight in the evening is fading as he remembers his manners and Burr resolves to reassure him later, once they’re alone.

“I invited Alexander out. That means he goes home with me,” Burr explains- it should be obvious.

“You believe you have some kind of claim to him because you walked into the tavern together?  _ Incroyable!”  _ Lafayette shakes his head.

“He’s my responsibility,” Burr tells the Non. Lafayette wouldn’t understand.

“He’s his own responsibility,” John challenges. Burr looks at Mulligan, expecting him to intervene. The Dom just shrugs at him.

“I’m going to take him home and get him settled. Mulligan, I suggest you do the same with John,” Burr tells him sternly. Alexander automatically steps towards him, out of the shelter of John’s embrace. John is too distracted by fury to notice.

“I do not need  _ settling,” _ the switch tells him through clenched teeth.

“John, you’re more on edge than I’ve ever seen you,” Burr tells him gently. “When was the last time you submitted?” He’s careful not to make the question critical- it’s a touchy subject for John, and if he feels judged now he’ll drop harder later when Mulligan finally takes care of him.

“He doesn’t have to submit if he doesn’t want to,” Mulligan tells him stubbornly, stepping between them.

“Yes, actually, he does. You going to sit by and watch if he decides to stop eating? His body needs submission just as much as it needs food. And  _ you _ need to take care of him, even if it’s hard. Even if he thinks he doesn’t want it,” Burr tells him, hard.

“Like you always  _ took care _ of me?” John spits. “Are you even a Dom, man? Or are you a Non who’s just afraid to admit it?”

“There is no shame in being non dynamic. It might be the least shameful thing about you,” Lafayette tells him with a sneer.

“Dominance and bravado aren’t intrinsically linked. Alexander here is proof of that,” Burr tells them, feeling his own temper rise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alexander demands, facing him head on, eyes blazing with challenge. He’s at least a little drunk, now, fueled by liquid courage but visibly fighting his body’s instinct to look away.

“You’re every bit as loud and passionate as any of them. Mulligan’s a Dom, John’s a switch, and Lafayette has already said he’s a non. With you, that’s every possible dynamic. So showmanship and display obviously doesn’t a Dom make,” Burr tells him firmly.

“What makes you so sure I’m a sub?” Alexander demands, and the sweet boy who bowed when he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, who called him ‘sir’ over and over reflexively, actually tries to puff up and  _ challenge _ him. The submissive actually shakes with the wrongness of it.

The dissonance hits Burr before he can think, and he snaps out, “Kneel,” unable to stop himself.

Alexander is on his knees before any of them can process what he’s said. What’s worse is that John is, too, though Mulligan quickly pulls him to his feet. The betrayal in the curly haired men’s eyes arrests him suddenly, with a hot wash of shame.  _ No, _ he thinks,  _ this is wrong. _ He doesn’t want to force them to their knees. But Alexander had needed it, badly. John has needed it all night. That show of force was his own instincts screaming out, wanting to protect these men.

Subs aren’t  _ less. _ John had never understood that. They’re different, but in many ways they’re stronger. And the weight of what they carry, the strength of their submission, means that sometimes they need someone to help them let it go, to unclench from all of that responsibility and just exist, in the safe space between orders. Both John and Alexander are clenched far too tightly, and he wants desperately to unwind them.

But that isn’t his place. And after that little display of dominance, he’s fairly sure Alexander is never going to trust him enough to get there. The submissive looks up at him with undisguised fury. “You can get up,” Burr says, swallowing. The dirt on Alexander’s knees feels like a condemnation, like he’s soiled the chance of something beautiful, along with the sub’s white breeches.

“I am not a submissive,” Alexander tells him, voice shaking with the effort of maintaining a strong posture. Burr raises an eyebrow, flatly disbelieving. “I’m like John,” Alexander insists, glancing away. Unable to maintain the eye contact and the lie. “I’m a switch. You just used it against me.”

“You’re not a switch,” Burr tells him, sure.

“You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to decide anything for me, ever. I’ll never submit to you. As far as you’re concerned, I’m a Dom. Don’t forget it.” The boundary is shakily drawn. Burr could knock it to pieces with a puff of breath. And maybe he should, for the sake of Alexander’s mental health, should take the boy home and put him to bed in his spare room and have a long talk tomorrow about submission and strength. But he’s shaken by the way he’s behaved tonight, himself- far more reactive than usual. And he doesn’t trust himself right now.

“Alexander-” he tries, equivocating even as he hates himself for it.

“Hamilton,” the sub insists.

“Hamilton.” It feels wrong in his mouth, but if it’s what the boy wants, he can have it. Burr will salvage this later, when they aren’t all so raw. “I’ll see you home. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“See yourself home, Burr,” John tells him, wrapping an arm around Alexander and bolstering him up. “Alex is with us.”

Hamilton permits the nickname, and Burr looks the group over. He can’t stop them, really. Surely, between the three of them, Mulligan, Lafayette, and John will be able to get Alexander home safe, however worked up he is. He thinks John’s too compassionate not to settle him, too, and at the moment that might come easier from a switch.

He nods, swallowing again. “I’ll check on you soon, Alex- Hamilton,” he corrects himself. Not wanting the sub to leave thinking he’s angry. Even if Alexander doesn’t  _ want _ to submit right now, his instincts will rail at him for angering a Dom, especially one he’d formed a connection with, however recently they met.

“Thank you for taking him home,” he tells John, for the same reason.

“I’m not doing it for  _ you,” _ John sneers. Burr doesn’t let it bother him- this isn’t about him or his ego, it’s about what the boys need. Whether either of them wants to admit to submissive feelings or not, this situation has all of the makings of a recipe for sub drop, and he's going to do everything he can to avert it. He wishes he could offer some kind of physical comfort, some small touch, but the way John's body language crowds Alexander, throwing every Dominant signal John can think of at him, he knows it isn't a good idea.

“Good evening,” Burr tells the group and forces himself to walk away.


	2. The Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've skipped forward in time. Burr has just conceded the Presidency. This chapter follows a rough outline of the beginning of "Your Obedient Servant" and you may recognize the lyrics- I've used them directly for the letters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to do a Saturday update schedule. Possibly random weekday updates as well. I know i'm skipping thirty years, here, but I wanted to get the major moments of their relationship put together first. Then I'll explore one shots of Burr/Alexander, and I've got a whole list of moments from the 'in-between' years I want to flesh out, with all sorts of character pairings! We WILL be getting Eliza/Maria's lovestory.
> 
> This is TOTALLY different for me, writing wise- I've had such bad writers block I haven't touched anything in months, and this is what broke me out of it. PLEASE let me know what you think- comments feed the writer!

If only he’d actually walked away, that first day. But Aaron Burr has always known how to wait, and he’d always thought the timing would work out, eventually. Only now, he’s realizing Alexander never intended to let it. Has actively fought against the possibility, for years.

In the aftermath of his concession to Jefferson, Burr considers going uptown to Alexander’s home. Considers calling on him or sending over an invitation for coffee, so that they can talk. But Alexander has always had the bizarre ability to make him lose his cool, effortlessly. Alex makes him passionate like no one else, and passion is what always gets Burr into trouble.

He decides to write a letter. In a letter, he can censor himself. He can remember to treat Alexander as if he honestly believes the lie the man has been living, that he’s a switch. It’s a good way to open communication.

He discards several drafts. Spends half an hour just on how to open the thing- ‘Mr. Hamilton’ would probably be what the other man would be most comfortable with, but ‘My Dearest Alexander’ is what his hand wants to write automatically, further proof that he’s a masochist, that he still can’t extinguish the care that had blossomed in his chest that first day. He compromises, settling on ‘Dear Alexander’ because he’s never been able to think of him as Hamilton, however much he pretends to buy the other man’s fake orientation.

He lets Alexander know he’s angry, but discards the drafts that drip with hurt, with betrayal. It’s too much- it’s the characteristic openness and feeling Alexander himself displays, but Burr is too reserved, too afraid to give the submissive further ammunition.

_Dear Alexander_

_I am slow to anger, but I toe the line as I reckon with the effects of your life on mine. I look back on where I failed and in every place I checked, the only common thread has been your disrespect. Now you call me "amoral", a "dangerous disgrace", If you've got something to say, name a time and place, face-to-face._

_I have the honor to be your obedient servant,_

_A. Burr_

He offers a meeting because he hopes this can be salvaged. Hopes Alexander was just angry, for some reason, that he’ll retract. Or at least apologize. And perhaps a bit because he wants to see the other man. He’s seen him rarely since Phillip died, and he worries- Angelica does her best to care for the two submissives and he knows Maria looks after them as best she can, but Alexander and Eliza move through New York City like ghosts. When Burr has chanced upon him, it’s taken all of his reserve not to bundle the man up and take him home to care for him. He imagines he wouldn’t be in any better shape if something happened to Theo.

He struggles heavily with how to end the letter- ‘Your Protector’ feels right, has always felt right, but Alexander has told him time and time again that he won’t accept his protection. That he doesn’t _need_ Burr. Has told him, clearly and explicitly, that as far as Burr is concerned, Alexander is a fellow Dom. He knows how much his care can ruffle the other man, so he signs as ‘your obedient servant’. It’s neutral enough- he’s a Service Dom, in many ways. He wants to protect, not possess, to comfort, not control. Alexander has never understood that.

He can’t keep some of his disappointment in the other man out of his tone, even in writing. He’d thought Alexander knew him, knew he kept a moderate stance for the sake of compromise, for the sake of uniting the whole front. He’s genuinely hurt and furious that someone he’d once called a friend would say the things Alexander’s been quoted as saying about him, and it comes across in the letter.

He seals it without letting himself second guess it further, sending it off before he can change his mind. He contemplates his signet ring as he reckons with where he’s ended up. He won’t recover, politically, from Alexander Hamilton speaking out against him with such vitriol. The submissive has never seemed to adjust to the weight his words carry, to the idea that people _listen_ to the man who created the Treasury, to Washington’s right hand, to the author of the Federalist Papers. He always speaks as if he’s trying to earn a seat at the table, and it makes him incredibly passionate and convincing every time.

He’s surprised when the boy he’d sent with the letter, too uncharacteristically impatient to wait for Franklin’s postal people to do their job, returns several hours later with a thick missive in Alexander’s bold hand.

Burr tries to convince himself that it’s a good sign the other man at least responded promptly- he’s always written like he was running out of time, so the stack of papers shouldn’t be a shock. That lasts until he opens it up, reading the beginning of the letter.

_Mr. Vice President_

_I am not the reason no one trusts you. No one knows what you believe. I will not equivocate on my opinion, I have always worn it on my sleeve. Even if I said what you think I said, you would need to cite a more specific grievance. Here's an itemized list of thirty years of disagreements:_

“Sweet Jesus,” Bur whispers, because it _is._ Page after page follows, brief accounts of practically every time they’ve ever spoken. Lists of days when Burr had taken care of or protected Alexander when he hadn’t wanted it, the reproach of his care stinging with harsh rejection as he reads them, some of the occasions things he hadn’t even remembered until he sees them on paper. Alexander actually mentions a time Burr had ‘laid hands on him’ by pulling him back from walking into the street when a carriage was coming, too wrapped up in what he was saying to notice.

But those aren’t the only instances. Alexander is apparently also upset that Burr didn’t tell him as soon as he met Theodosia, of all things- as if he should’ve confided in the submissive he couldn’t have about the one he had taken. It’s the last section, though, that makes him ache- times he _had_ held himself back, respected Alexander’s wishes, where the man plaintively claims Burr had ‘ignored your own false protestations of friendship and stood idly by when I needed you’.

There are fewer of those- Burr has always been marvelous at restraint, except where Alexander is concerned- but each of them is like rocks against glass as he contemplates his own failings. Those entries are longer and more vitrolic than the others, and Burr sits there for hours reading over and contemplating each entry, struck by the ways he’s failed Alexander.

If there’s one thing this list makes clear, it’s that Alexander is spiraling. If Burr could see him, he knows how he’d be- hair wild, eyes manic, bouncing from topic to topic and at the edge of actually bouncing with it all. The letter cries out for what he knows Alexander needs- someone to take him in hand. And he’ll never allow Burr to do it. The end of the letter:

_Hey, I have not been shy, I am just a guy in the public eye tryna do my best for our republic. I don't wanna fight, but I won't apologize for doing what's right_

_I have the honor to be your obedient servant_

_A. Ham_

Makes that clear, Alexander echoing his own signature exactly. It’s a taunt. Alexander condemns him for not taking care of him while openly reviling his attempts, and Burr has. Had. Enough. This entire letter has been _personal_ affronts and disagreements, and Alexander has the _audacity_ to pretend at the end that it’s just about politics? That isn’t going to stand.

He shoots back a short scold, no address or signature, grabbing another boy off the street to deliver the message, not even realizing how late it’s gotten.

_Careful how you proceed, good man. Intemperate indeed, good man._

_Answer for the accusations I lay at your feet or prepare to heed, good man._

Alexander has found his limit, and they are going to decide the nature of their relationship once and for all. He is absolutely threatening to take Alexander down. He’s said over and over that he won’t force a submissive where they don’t want to be, but he can’t stand by for another minute and watch Alexander want to submit so desperately and not allow himself what he needs. He tempers the scolding with a gentle address- ‘good man’- because Alexander is spiraling enough and he doesn’t want to send him into a drop. That letter is all the proof that he needs that Alexander, for all of his protestations of independence, feels the pull between them as strongly as he does. It's also clear that he feels Burr’s failure to take responsibility keenly.

He’s not doing that, anymore. Either Alexander will apologize- properly, in person, with actual remorse, in which case they can start there- or Burr will go to him himself and be everything the other man needs him to be. He’s given Alexander the out to answer him as a fellow politician, but it’s just words and they both know it- this has been a long time coming.

****

He shouldn’t have been surprised to get the letter. If he’s honest with himself, he’s only surprised it was an errand boy with a letter and not Burr himself, furious and powerful, that he found on his doorstep. Though he supposes he shouldn't have been- few things inspire true passion, overcoming restraint, in Burr, and Alexander knows it would be vain to imagine himself important enough to the other man.

He knows exactly what he did, and how wrong it was. Burr would’ve more closely matched his own political beliefs, he knows, even if Burr keeps that sort of thing quiet, and he supposes he owes the man some loyalty for the years of almost-friendship, charged as it is with something more they’ve never been, between them.

But Burr won’t take care of _him._ How can a man who won’t even care for a sub care for a country? Washington had told him that he considered the responsibility of leadership every bit as sacred as that of dominance, and that he was responsible for the wellbeing of his citizens just as clearly as he was of a submissive during a scene. And Burr doesn’t take that responsibility. Thomas, a secret submissive like himself who wields a quill with passion and determination, will if nothing else lead actively. And he at least has Madison to settle him when he needs it, Alexander thinks with bitter jealousy.

Alexander pushes away any notion that he’s responded to personal rejection with political destruction. Yes, Burr had taken excellent care of Theodosia. Had raised Theodosia Jr. into a strong young Dominant, even when custom said a girl from a good family should at least play at submission. Because, though he can’t point to any moment that gives him actual, legitimate claim, he is very conscious of the fact that he’d needed Burr to take care of him time and time again, and the other man hadn’t. He’d tried to settle for what Angelica could offer, but it had never been quite what he needed. Given his position, there was no one else besides Burr who he could’ve trusted.

And Burr knew that. Alexander is sure the other man _knew_ what he needed every time, that the bond between them tugged as sharply at the Dom as it does at him. He gives the delivery boy a sandwich from the kitchen and tells him to rest, promising to make the delay worth his while, as he sits down to write.

There’s no plan to his letter, no clear goal. He never writes without a goal. Until today. Today, he vomits up three decades of want and unanswered need and wounded pride. Today, he writes of the times Burr has disrespected _him,_ because Burr’s charge of his own disrespect aches deep in his chest with the truth of it. But he doesn’t apologize, openly refuses to do so, because even if he apologizes, he won’t get absolution, not really, and he _needs_ it. It’s that lack that spurs him on, Burr’s refusal to just _claim_ him, though he’s always kept half a hand in, keeping Alex from moving on.

Writes of the times Burr’s hands or words have _almost_ taken him in hand, as if they’re an affront. Writes of all of the times he’d needed Burr, of the ways the other man hadn’t been there for him, as the failure they are. How can Burr brand him a bad submissive when he’s failed him time and time again as a Dominant? That word- never written but heavy on the page of Burr’s letter nonetheless- pounds at him, sharp and painful. _Bad. Bad sub._ He cringes and keeps writing.

His lack of intent to apologize is clear in the letter, but he spells it out anyway- throwing a gauntlet. Burr has a choice, now- he can write him off or call his bluff. No more half measures. Alexander is going to wind up on his knees, here, whether it’s crying out his grief in Eliza’s lap when there’s no way she can help him or kneeling for Burr, accepting punishment for his insolence.

He sends the letter off with the boy, paying extra to him to report back on Burr’s response, if he doesn’t send a reply. Disappointed isn’t a strong enough word for what he feels when the child returns empty handed.

“He was… stunned,” the boy tells him.

“Stunned? Did you actually watch him read it?” Alexander asks. Maybe Burr _did_ intend to reply, and this child had merely rushed out. Hope clatters around his chest painfully.

“He skimmed the first part and sent me away, sir,” the child tells him. “Looked like he’d been hit by a carriage.”

Because he’s too much. He’s always known that, despite John’s protestations to the contrary. He laid everything out for Burr and it was too much. He’s got to send this boy away before he loses it.

He sees the child out the door with another sandwich and a few extra pennies for his trouble, then collapses against the door with the weight of it all. He’d always told himself Burr was there, in the background. That if he really fell apart, the other man would catch him. Had let himself be settled by little touches and words that were probably no more than pleasantries, because it was all he had. The loss of that imagined care is a blow to his _soul._

Eliza finds him there a few minutes later.

“Alexander?” she asks, worried.

He whines miserably, forehead pressed against the door where he kneels, unable to tell her how foolish he’s been. Eliza doesn’t _like_ Doms. She and Maria are perfectly happy with one another, and she’s always known about his needs- urged him to find a way to have them met, even- but she doesn’t feel that pull the same way he does. She won’t understand.

“Alexander, what’s wrong? You’re frightening me,” she asks, voice trembling. He should get up. Should show her the letter. Tell her what he did.

Instead, he shakes his head, still resting it against the door, and wraps his arms around himself. He’ll stay here, forever if he has to. Being quiet and still has always been so hard for him- Washington used to make him sit quietly in his office when he’d been impossible, the fatherly censure settling him fractionally. He’ll stay here until Burr realizes he’s sorry, even if he was too stubborn to say it. He’ll punish himself, since no one else cares enough to. He deserves it, after all.

“Alexander, if you won’t tell me what’s wrong, I’m going to send for Angelica, alright? She’ll help,” Eliza assures him.

Except she can’t, really. She’d tried to properly take him down, once, after John died. Before she was married, and with Eliza’s enthusiastic blessing. He and Eliza acting as one another’s covers had been Angelica’s idea, after all. It had been an unmitigated disaster. They’d both dropped so badly they’d decided to never try it again. He thinks there might have been a version of their lives where he and Angelica could’ve taken care of each other, could’ve filled the gaps where their false identities as switches left them without. But he can’t let go for her, and it leaves them both feeling worse than before they started.

He wants Burr.

That one request beats in his chest in time with his heart. _Burr. Burr. Please, Burr._ No one answers, of course. Burr isn’t coming, won’t care enough to wrap a warm hand around the side of his neck in friendly concern ever again.

He wraps his own hands around the back of his neck, linking them. It’s an awkward position, but it settles something within him, just a little. Calms some small corner of the howling chasm of regret in him. He’s dimly aware of Eliza and Maria speaking. Maria knows Burr. He handled her divorce. At the time, Alexander had thought it was a favor to him- he’d introduced them, when Maria was ready to make the split legally official. Had known he’d be compassionate enough not to frighten her further, but strong enough to get her out of the dangerous, toxic marriage. Probably, Burr just took her on out of duty to the law.

Someone lays a hand on his shoulder. He’s dimly aware of the girls asking him to move, so they can use the door. He shakes his head. He’s staying right here until Burr knows he’s sorry. He's going to prove he regrets his rude, accusatory letter, as well as all the behavior prior. He hears something about the kitchen door, and getting Angelica. He tunes it out.

He can’t tune Angelica out. He tries at first, as she coaxes, but her command voice hits the howling part of him, deep inside, and he wants desperately to let himself fall into it, to do what she tells him and accept her praise for a job well done. It would make him feel better, but it wouldn’t actually make anything _better._

He shakes his head when she tells him to get up.

“Why are you kneeling here?” Angelica asks next. She’s got a gentle hand on his head, and he’s got to answer her. No use alienating anyone else.

“Bad,” is all he manages, quietly. He hears a startled gasp from behind him. One of the girls. He feels distantly badly for upsetting them- they’re both homodynamic, completely unattracted to Doms. Even if Maria was married to a particularly brutal one for years. This sort of behavior from him is exactly the sort of thing that’s going to reinforce all of their misgivings about Dominants, he knows.

Angelica withdraws her hand, a note of caution creeping into her voice. “Is this punishment?” she asks. He nods, and she steps back. It is, even if it’s self inflicted. Angelica won’t interfere with what she thinks is another Dom’s punishment, even if she doesn’t understand. Not as long as it isn’t actively harming him. Punishment is always unpleasant for the recipient. He’s fine. He’ll kneel, and eventually Burr will understand the implicit promise- he’ll stop being too much, if Burr will only forgive him. He’ll find a way to get Jefferson impeached, make Burr President. Fix what he’s broken. Stop wanting more, if he can just have _something._ Have the tiny acts of caring he used to shun.

He hears Angelica questioning the girls, but none of them know what’s going on. He wonders if they’ll think to check his desk, hopes they won’t. He doesn’t want them to know how shamefully he’s behaved. He ruined a good man’s career, because Burr didn’t _want_ a mouthy, badly behaved submissive like him. He did what he always does, made the politics personal. It’d been bad enough when he’d thought Burr was only too hesitant to take what he wanted. But it’s unforgivable, disgusting petulance, that he did what he did in response to what was actually years of gentle _rejection._

Dusk is falling through the window by the door when someone knocks. He doesn’t respond- he’s being _quiet,_ for once. Trying to be good. Angelica comes to the door. Since she can’t open it, she calls, “Who is it?”

“I’ve got a letter for a Mr. Alexander Hamilton, miss,” a young man’s voice says, and Alexander surges to his feet, throwing the door open and snatching the letter.

He ignores Angelica apologizing for him as he steps back inside, tearing open the letter to read it. Burr’s words. The paper is like a lifeline.

Except, as he reads the scolding, he sinks down onto the stairs, a wounded sound tearing out of his throat. Tears prick in his eyes and he can’t hold them back any longer. He’d poured his heart out, in his own twisted fashion, knelt for hours in penance, but he can’t change what he did or, fundamentally, who he is. Burr is right to call out his lack of self control. No Dom is going to waste time on a sub who can’t even control _himself._ Especially one who can’t even admit to being a sub.

His distress brings Eliza running, Maria hanging back respectfully. Angelica turns, closing the door on the delivery boy, and takes the letter from his hand. She looks disturbed as she reads it. “He has you kneeling for hours and _this_ is how he releases you?” she asks, her voice tightly controlled with fury.

Alexander can’t bring himself to explain. Eliza has knelt in front of him to take his hands, and he buries his face in her neck rather than face his sister-in-law.

“Who?” Maria asks, and Angelica must pass her the letter, because her voice grows cold. “This is about the election,” she says darkly.

“I wasn’t even aware Alexander and Burr were in a relationship,” Angelica says. He cries harder, because they never have been. He wonders how different he’d be, how much better, if he’d had the guidance of someone like Burr.

“They aren’t,” Eliza says, stroking his hair. “They’re… friends? Sometimes. Other times he visits and I worry I’m going to have to get blood out of the carpets.”

“He can’t try to force submission from you because he doesn’t like your political stances,” Maria tells him. Alexander shakes his head, wanting to tell her that’s not it, that it wasn’t even really his stance, it was just… bratting, if he was totally honest. Acting out because he wasn’t getting what he felt like he was owed from a Dom he has no claim on.

“Eliza, get him in a bath, please. He’s been kneeling for hours, he’s going to be stiff. Maria, go prepare a plate of finger foods. Things he can eat while he soaks. He knelt through dinner. I’ll sit with Alexander while you get things ready,” Angelica tells them, calm and assured, the way she gets when she’s very, very determined. The girls scatter to their assigned tasks and Angelica sits beside him.

“He’s the problem, Alexander, not you,” she tells him, and Alex shakes his head. She’s got it all wrong, she’s confused. She doesn’t know he and Burr’s history.

He remembers the night they’d met, the careful, gentle way Burr had stayed to walk him home, even when he’d been disrespectful and neglectful. No censure or punishment, just care and protection from a Dom who only wanted to keep him safe. How he’d been so afraid of his own submission he’d denied it, sworn to never kneel for Burr because he was frightened of how much he wanted to.

How he’d gone to bed with the others but only ever knelt for John, because John knew, because sometimes John was weak, too. How it had barely touched the itch, how sometimes John could bend him over the bed and take a strap to him and it settled him less than the gentle touch of Burr’s hand on his neck. How he’d rebelled against the idea by being openly disrespectful when he was feeling especially submissive, how he’d dropped afterwards and no one- not John, or later Angelica, or even Washington, who’d behaved like the father of an unattached submissive as often as he’d behaved like his boss- could pull him out of it.

He wishes desperately that he’d let Burr take care of him, years ago. That he’d allowed the other man to watch over him, even if they’d kept it a secret, or at least not antagonized him. Or, if he was determined to be antagonistic, that he at least hadn’t crossed the lines he has, recently, attacking Burr the politician, even Burr the man, instead of admitting weakness to Burr the Dom.

That’s the rub of it. At any time before the election, if he’d gone to Burr and said he needed to submit he’s sure the other man would’ve taken care of him. Whether it had been helping with sub drop, or a scene when it had been too long, or just a space to quiet his brain. He knows enough about Aaron Burr to know that, even if he’d never intended his gentle touches and protective nature as anything meaningful, he was too chivalrous to turn away a submissive who needed him.

Alexander needs him now.

He needs _Burr,_ not just a Dom. Needs him desperately enough that he’d beg, properly, formally, head to the floor and everything, if he weren’t so horrified by himself and what he’s done. Burr should’ve been _President._ He’s handed the country, everything he and Washington worked for and built, to _Thomas Jefferson_ just to spite a Dom who didn’t want him.

He’s a disgrace. Washington would be so disappointed in him, if he were here. He’d told him over and over that ignoring who he was wasn’t working, that he had to find a balance and find a way to take care of himself.

Washington is the closest he’d ever had to a father, just like if he’s honest with himself Burr is the closest he’s ever had to a real Dom, since John died. And they’d both be so disappointed and disgusted by the mistakes he’s made. He cries miserably as Angelica tries to comfort him.

“You did what you thought was right-” she tells him gently.

He shakes his head. “Didn’t.” He sobs. “Didn’t. Was just mad. He’s a better- he’d be better than Thomas.”

Angelica rubs his back as she considers this. “Then you made a mistake. That doesn’t mean he gets to hurt you like this.”

Alexander wants to explain to her that it’s not _Burr_ hurting him, it’s him wrecking everything, but he can’t find the words and he knows his abortive explanations only confuse her further. The girls reappear, Maria first with food she takes upstairs before returning with Eliza.

Angelica chivvies him to his feet before passing him off to her sister. “Get him warm and fed and put him to bed.. I’ll be back soon,” she tells Eliza. “You be good for Betsy, now. Can you do that for me?” she asks him and he nods, desperate to get something right. “Good boy,” Angelica tells him, kissing his forehead before sending them upstairs. The praise warms him, settles him a little, even as he feels like a liar for accepting it, when she doesn't really understand what he's done.

Eliza helps him undress and lowers him into the tub- he hadn’t realized how stiff he’d gotten until the warm water curls around him. Or how hoarse he was from crying, he realizes when he tries to thank her.

“You’re welcome, Alexander. Of course. I love you, and Angelica loves you, and Maria loves you. We’re your family. We’ll take care of you,” she assures him, and gradually his tears stop.

They manage the cold dinner Maria prepared with him still in the tub. He drops a piece of cheese into the water and Eliza fishes it out, patting his knee and assuring him it’s fine. Eliza calls down to the housekeeper for more hot water, topping it off and swirling it in to keep him warm. His wife washes him gently, paying extra attention to sore spots and working lather into his hair far longer than is necessary. He unwinds a little under her tender care, forcing himself to calm down. Eliza doesn’t deserve to have her world shaken, just because _his_ has been disrupted.

She helps him dry off and get into warm, flannel pajamas, then takes him to bed. He usually sleeps alone, these days- she and Maria are just down the hall- but she stays with him in the chair he keeps in the corner for reading, talking quietly about the weather and what they might do for Thanksgiving in a few weeks. It’s nice not to be alone.


	3. Chapter 3: Angelica is DONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelica takes matters into her own hands to sort the boys out. Somebody has to!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, guys, this is our path to a happy ending!!! Not an easy ending mind you, but a happier one than "Alexander dead, Burr is the villain."
> 
> Also, my mind has gone down the rabbit hole of what would've happened if Alexander HADN'T died and let's just say there are follow up fics coming....

Angelica’s whole body rings with righteous fury as she watches Betsy take Alexander upstairs. Alexander is a complex man, and frequently difficult. But he doesn’t deserve this.

“You’re going to go see him,” her sister’s lover says quietly, but sure. She turns to face Maria, weighing her answer. “I’m coming with you,” the submissive tells her certainly.

“One of us should stay here,” she tries. She’s going to tear into Burr, and Maria has some very bad associations with angry Doms.

“Betsy is more than capable of looking after him, and the housekeeper will look after them if they need anything. I always thought Aaron Burr was a good man. I want to hear what he has to say for himself,” Maria tells her resolutely.

“Then we’d better get our coats,” Angelica decides, unwilling to waste time. She’s fairly sure Alexander is going to go straight from punishment mode- without forgiveness to temper it, which is criminal as far as she’s concerned- into sub drop, if he hasn’t already, and she’d like to get back to ease him through as much as she can.

There’s light visible in Burr’s windows when they arrive, and she raps on the door sharply. “Mrs. Church. Miss Reynolds, come in. What can I do for you?” Aaron Burr asks politely. He answers his own door, which surprises her. But Theodosia has just married, moving with her husband to South Carolina- Angelica supposes that with just him in the house, Burr may consider a daytime housekeeper sufficient. She’s glad- the less of an audience they have, the better.

Burr looks terrible. He’s obviously been through the wringer, she notices as he takes their coats. “I can make a pot of tea, if you’d like. I’m afraid I’m a bit distracted at the moment,” he tells them. If his hair was long enough, she thinks he’d run his fingers through it.

She imagines him looking wild like Alexander does in the midst of upheaval, but can’t quite picture it. She can’t honestly see Burr caring about anything that much. “This isn’t a social call, Mr. Burr,” she tells him firmly.

“Then let’s go to my office,” he offers, leading the way.

His desk is a mess of papers. He picks one up, beginning to clear it, then his face scrunches up in pain and he sets it back down. Angelica doesn’t ask. She frankly doesn’t care.

“The way you’ve treated my brother-in-law is indefensible,” she tells him flatly.

“I’ve known cruel Doms, Mr. Burr. I never expected to find you to be one,” Maria says from beside her.

“I’m sorry?” Burr asks them, distracted but obviously caught off guard by the accusations.

“You have no right to treat him so roughly-” Maria insists.

“Is this about my last letter? Well, note, really,” Burr asks.

“Partially,” Angelica tells him.

“I think it was more than justified,” Burr tells her. He pauses, adding reluctantly, “Was he upset?”

“Upset?” they thunder in unison. It’s such an understatement that it would be laughable, if the situation weren’t so serious.

“How dare you… URGH!” Maria demands at the same time as Angelica says, “You are the sorriest excuse for a Dom I think I’ve ever spoken to.”

“I’m not his Dom,” Burr tells them. Maria opens her mouth to answer- probably to go off about punishing a sub and not taking responsibility for him- but before she can, he continues, “And I don’t think I was out of line at all with that little scolding when you consider what I’m responding to.”

“So you aren’t President,” Angelica tells him huffily. “Most people aren’t! And they’re not going around-”

Burr  _ cuts her off. _ “Would everyone stop pretending this is about the election?” he demands.

“Then what the hell is it about?” Maria asks, pushing forward. She jokes that Alexander is her sister-wife, given their shared love of Eliza, and she’s fiercely protective of him now. Angelica remembers the wilting thing Alexander had first brought home and marvels at the confidence the girl has gained.

Burr opens his arms, gesturing to the papers littering his desk. “I wrote to Alexander, because he’s been slandering me publicly and, after everything, I felt I at least deserved an explanation, if not an apology. This is what I got back.”

He sits heavily in his desk chair, looking far older than he has any right to. Angelica looks over the papers spread across his desk and realizes they’re all in Alexander’s hand. She grabs the nearest one, watching as Maria does the same at the other end of the desk.

She reads one page after another, surprised and confused. It appears to be a list… of every time Burr has tried to take care of Alexander, and how inappropriate it was. Only she doesn’t see anything inappropriate in any of the actions described- just protective. Loving, even.

Maria seems to be having a different experience. “You’re angry because he admitted to  _ needing _ you? There’s nothing wrong with submission, Burr!”

Angelica takes the pages in her quasi-sister-in-law’s hand and reads them. These are a list of the times Burr has  _ not _ tried to take care of Alexander, filled with hurtful accusations of abandonment and clear pain. Enough that Burr’s wilted, distracted mood makes sense- if he cares for Alex at all, he’s probably deeply in Dom drop. Her brother-in-law has always had a talent for evocative, persuasive writing. But she doesn’t understand what the two sets of pages are doing in one letter. “Did he send these at the same time?” she asks, to confirm.

Burr nods tiredly. “So he’s… angry you didn’t dominate him, when you aren’t his Dom,” she translates.

“That’s not-” Maria interrupts. Angelica hushes her gently.

“And also angry that you did take care of him, in what look like the most non-aggressive ways possible, again, when you aren’t his Dom,” she finishes. Maria frowns, reaching for the other stack of pages. Angelica passes them to her.

“So he’s angry you aren’t his Dom,” Angelica finishes.

“Except the letter begins and ends with talk of politics and doing what’s best for America. Apparently, I wouldn’t be a good leader because I haven’t taken good care of  _ him,” _ Burr confesses. He’s visibly wounded by the accusation. The two of them are going to be the death of Angelica, she can already tell.

“Why would he…” Maria asks, continuing to read.

“I should’ve taken better care of him. I’ve wanted to. But I didn’t think he’d allow it, and I respect him too much as a person to force the issue. Or I did until now. Until I saw how my supposed respect has hurt him. Every item in the section of times I wasn’t there, I wanted to be. I talked myself out of it, let him handle himself. But it’s becoming very clear to me that Alexander can handle a great many things, but himself is  _ not _ one of them.”

A sickening thought occurs to Angelica, one that justifies Burr’s harshness, if it doesn’t excuse it. “This makes it sound like… like he kept you from becoming President because he wasn’t getting the relationship he wanted from you.”

“No,” Burr tells her immediately, shaking his head. “I didn’t give him what he needed, and he acted out. If that kept me from becoming President, it’s my own fault. I wanted a straight answer about what he said- he’s dodged that, if you read the letter- he stands by it,  _ if _ he said it- but whether he threw all of this at me to avoid taking responsibility or not, it matters. And I may have scolded him for attacking me instead of answering my questions, but the more I sit here with all of this, the more I think he’s not going to be able to face me directly, himself. Not if this is how he feels.”

“Then you shouldn’t have punished him,” Maria insists, challenging.

“It was what, three sentences?” Burr says derisively. “The thought at the time was to give him one last chance to back out, to keep up the pretense that he’s a switch and take this back to professional disagreement if he didn’t want me handling it personally. He writes like he hates that as much as he needs it. The idea of anything between us being  _ personal. _ If he wants to face me politician to politician and discuss things, I gave him that option. If he’s not going to do that, then this wasn’t just a snowing tactic, he really meant all of this. And I’m going to fix it. I’ve always respected Alexander’s independence, but if this is really how he feels, he doesn’t get a choice about that.”

“You left him like that, alone, for  _ hours, _ and then you pretended this could just be politics?” Maria screeches. Angelica winces. She’s angry too, but this isn’t the way to address it. Reading the pages and pages of heartbreak Alexander sent, it’s clear that their goal here needs to be getting Burr to step up for Alexander, not driving him off. She’s not sure Maria is on the same page. Punishment is a tricky subject for the submissive, because of her own abusive past.

“Left him like what?” Burr asks.

Angelica snaps. “Don’t be obtuse. He didn’t even take the time to find a cushion or move to a carpet, at least, he went down on his knees at the door and he just  _ stayed. _ I couldn’t get more than ‘bad’ out of him when I asked why he was kneeling. It scared the girls, seeing him like that. He stayed until your ‘little scolding’ showed up, releasing him, and then he cried like his heart was broken, because he tried so hard to be good for you- Alexander is never quiet, he’s never still, he managed it without slipping up at  _ all. _ And even if that was only part of the punishment, you should’ve acknowledged it. You never should’ve punished him from across town in the first place.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Burr tells her slowly.

“You put him on his knees and you left him there  _ alone. _ And he did that for you, and you didn’t even acknowledge it,” Maria accuses.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I wrote Alexander a letter earlier today, expressing my anger about his public accusations against my character. He wrote back… all of this. And I responded with an admittedly ill advised scold, telling him to be careful what he said and to either answer me as a man or be ready to submit. I tried to temper it- I didn’t think he’d be able to take ‘be a good boy’, or ‘my’ anything, so I called him ‘good man’. But all I did was scold him for flying off the handle and give him a  _ choice. _ No one said anything about kneeling,” Burr insists.

Angelica looks at Maria worriedly. The submissive looks back, confused. “Walk me through a timeline of today,” she orders.

“I conceded late last night. Thomas was… not a gracious winner, and I came home upset, especially because I’ve heard Alexander talk about Thomas, and the idea that he held me in lower regard than even  _ that… _ it stung. I wanted to confront him, but I knew I wasn’t in control of my temper. So I wrote a letter this morning. Sent it with a boy, who came back a couple of hours later with Alexander’s manifesto of my failings. I read that, read it again. Considered all of the times I’ve hesitated, the ways I’ve talked myself out of taking what he won’t offer. Determined not to fail him again, and gave him what I think he wants. My dominance, if he’ll accept it. I thought he’d come storming in as a whirlwind, demanding ‘how dare I?’ and I’d calm him down. Settle him out. Only instead, I got you two,” he tells them.

Maria explains, “Alexander wrote through lunch- on this, I presume- then someone came to the door and a few minutes later, when we hadn’t heard anything, Eliza looked in on him and found him on his knees. We couldn’t get him to talk to us, so I went for Angelica.”

“He said it was punishment. Or he nodded when I asked, anyway.” Angelica watches Burr carefully.

“Not from me. Could there be someone else, a Dom who’s taking care of him?” Burr asks.

“No. He hasn’t let anyone, really, since John died. I tried, but it doesn’t work for either of us. Washington always parented him, and he kept him on an even keel, until the past few years. With Washington in Virginia, Alexander has… not been at his best. And when he died last year, Alexander was devastated,” Angelica tells him.

That was one of the items on the list, Angelica remembers. That Burr had sent a  _ condolence card, _ rather than visiting in person. That they’d both been at the funeral but Burr had sat so far back, not with him, leaving him alone with Jefferson and Madison and Adams, and that Burr had not come to see him when he’d known Alexander was drowning in grief.

Of course, Burr  _ had _ come after Phillip died, and Alexander had condemned him for that, too. Rationally, Angelica sees how Burr couldn’t possibly have satisfied Alexander, no matter what choice he made, but she still resents his failure to care for her brother-in-law.

“He’s home with who, just Eliza? And if there’s not another Dom, he put  _ himself _ on his knees. And if that was about me… I need to see him,” Burr decides, leaping into action.

“You’re not punishing him again,” Maria demands shakily.

Burr looks at her with wild eyes. “What on  _ earth _ are you talking about? Of course not. I’d never punish him without an actual, face to face discussion of what he’d done wrong and why, in the first place. But if he put himself into punishment, he’s got all of those guilty feelings swirling around and there’s  _ no one there to tell him he’s forgiven and he’s good. _ He’ll get stuck. I’ve got to get him out of that.” 

He’s gathering up his coat and hat as he speaks, and the women slide back into their own coats, following him. “What are you going to do?” Maria asks as they rush to keep up.

“Tell him how good he is. How brave he was to kneel like that. Hold him, if he’ll let me. Try to keep the drop from being any worse than it already is,” Burr tells her distractedly.

It’s a solid plan. Angelica would probably handle things pretty similarly, herself. She hurries to keep up with Burr as he rushes toward the Hamilton house- he’s always so polite, but he’s not waiting for them today, completely focused on Alexander. She silently approves.

Burr lets himself into the house and turns toward the stairs, before pausing. “Where are they?” he asks- no, demands. She’s never heard Aaron Burr demand anything before today.

“Probably Alexander’s bedroom-” Maria begins, and Burr is off. Angelica didn’t even know he knew where that was. They follow him upstairs in time to see Eliza standing between Burr and the bed where Alex appears to be curled up. He’s apparently responded to Burr’s arrival by… hiding under the covers, which is not a good sign.

“I think you’ve done enough,” Eliza tells the Dom in front of her.

“I have been failing to do  _ enough _ for Alexander for a long time,” Burr admits.

Eliza hesitates, and Burr just walks past her, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I hear you’ve had quite the day,” he says softly.

Eliza, unsure what to do with herself, retreats to join her sister and lover in the doorway. They all wait, but Alexander doesn’t answer.

“I’m going to need to be able to see you when I’m talking to you,” Burr tells him mildly.

“Then don’t talk to me,” Alexander mumbles sullenly, turning under the blanket to put his back to Burr. Angelica holds her breath- that was openly defiant, and she’s afraid of how the other Dom will react.

Burr tugs the blankets down gently, ending the standoff. Then he braces a hand on the far side of Alexander, turning to face the head of the bed and the recalcitrant submissive hiding within it. “There you are,” he says mildly. “I got your letter,” he tells Alexander gently.

The sub rolls all the way over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow and clutching it tightly. Burr doesn’t try to take it from him or force him to turn, only strokes his hair softly. “You said a lot of things, hmm?” Burr asks.

Alexander still doesn’t answer. “It must have been hard to tell me all of that,” Burr tells him. “Especially the parts that don’t make sense, in your head. It was very brave of you to tell me. Do you want to know what I thought of it?” he offers.

Alexander shakes his head, then pauses. Slowly, reluctantly, he nods.

“You’ve needed a lot of things from me I haven’t given you,” Burr tells him. “Things I wanted to give you. But I’ve gone halfway, over and over. If that. And that wasn’t fair to you- you deserved more, Alexander. I’m sorry.”

The sub in the bed begins to shake with tears, clutching the pillow tighter. Burr keeps up his gentle petting. “What’s this, now?” he asks softly.

“I… sorry… ruined… angry…. Jefferson,” Angelica can just make out the odd word through Alexander’s muffled tears.

“I’m not angry, Alex,” Burr tells him gently.

“No!” Alex turns over, so quickly and forcefully he bangs Burr in the chin. The Dom clutches his face wordlessly, sliding back far enough to let the tearful submissive sit up. “I was so angry. So greedy, you didn’t owe me anything. And I said  _ Jefferson-” _ he dissolves into sobs.

“You had every right to expect more from me, Alexander. We both know it, even if we never said it. Expecting people who love you to take care of you isn’t greedy, sweetheart,” Burr tells him.

Angelica pulls the girls to her, letting her sister hide in her shoulder as Maria stares openly. None of them were prepared for that revelation, she thinks.

That includes Alexander himself, who stares at Burr, still crying, the bedsheet crumpling beneath his fingers. “You never even  _ wanted _ me,” he accuses shakily.

“I did, baby boy, I swear. From the very first day. I just stood back and waited, because I thought you didn’t want  _ me. _ I shouldn’t have waited or hesitated. That was my mistake, Alexander, not because you aren’t good or deserving, because I was scared,” Burr tells him gently.

Alex just cries harder. “Can I-” Burr pauses, and Angelica  _ seethes. _ He’s talking about hesitating and how it’s hurt Alexander, and here he is asking and second guessing everything when it’s clear the sub needs him. “Oh, forget this. Schuyler, what’s his safe word?” Burr demands.

“Princeton,” Eliza confesses before Angelica decides who he’s talking to. Neither of them are Schuylers anymore, after all.

“Alexander, you safeword if you need me to stop. Understand?” Burr tells him, tone firm. Alex nods shakily.

“Good. Good boy. You’re being so good for me, hmm?” Burr tells him, pulling Alexander into a hug. The contact is all it takes for Alex to throw himself at the other man, burying his face in Burr’s neck.

Angelica thinks they should probably step out- this is private, or it should be- but she’s not sure she trusts Burr with Alexander, just yet. Sure, he won’t violate the sub’s boundaries, but she’s worried he’ll go suddenly shy again and leave Alexander dangling in the wind. She’s not sure the submissive could bear that.

She watches Burr pull Alexander even closer, adjusting his position just to remind the other man that he can and stroking a hand up his back to rest on his neck. Alex sinks into the gentle pressure, and the sigh that escapes him is… not something they need to witness. She ushers the girls out, shutting the door behind them.

Before she goes, she gives Burr a long, hard look. He feels her eyes on him, looking up and meeting her gaze with a nod. She’ll trust him for now, but she makes sure he knows- Washington isn’t around any more, but that doesn’t mean there’s no one to protect Alexander from Doms who could do him harm. If Burr hurts him again, he’ll answer to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!!!


	4. Chapter 4: Burr and Alex finally talk!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr and Alex are finally alone, and now it's time to work some things out.

Alexander has probably too much experience crying like this. He’s grieved- for his mother, and John, and Washington and then Phillip, his  _ son. _ And no one is dead, today, but the clawing in his chest feels like grief anyway. Grief for what the world never let him have- a safe, happy life at Burr’s side, a Dom who loved him. He’d sworn when he was younger that his career was worth the trade off, that he preferred political success to personal satisfaction.

He’d never really  _ had _ a home, not long enough to feel like it was something he needed. And he and Eliza have built a loving household, in spite of their recent grief. He has a  _ family. _ He’s just never had a place to belong, someone who was  _ his, _ first and foremost, a space in someone’s heart that was just for him. Important. Necessary. Irreplaceable. He suddenly feels how empty his life is, without that.

Eliza found Maria. Or, he found her, and brought them together. Burr had loved Theodosia. No one has ever loved Alexander, like that. The revolutionary set were brothers in arms, finding comfort in each other, but the cause always came first- they never truly expected to survive, so their bond never felt  _ permanent. _ There were always women, shared or alone, in addition to the others. And after the war, after John died… the places he’d been between them swelled with grief. It was easier to move on.

He could’ve been Burr’s. He knows that, now. If he hadn’t decided to reinvent himself, hadn’t been so soured on submission that he’d tried to turn his back on it, he could’ve belonged to Aaron Burr. He remembers the night they’d met.

He’d felt safe, for the first time since landing in America, when Burr touched him. He’d wanted that, wanted to revel in that feeling and keep it, the way he felt sheltered and  _ protected _ by the arm Burr put around him as they walked. But he’d been captivated by the revolutionaries, especially John- John, who was like him sometimes, but stronger, braver,  _ better. _ He’d wanted to impress them all, but especially John Laurens.

He’d done very little drinking prior to that night, and he’d been far too drunk to keep track of niceties like  _ paying attention to the Dom he’d arrived with. _ Now, he knows John had drawn him away on purpose. Had seen him and wanted him, yes. But John had also explained his own complex history with Burr, and Alex had understood the truth- John hadn’t wanted Burr to have him. Maybe hadn’t wanted to see someone else accept what he hadn’t been able to, from Burr.

John’s in your face bravado was a sharp contrast to Burr’s quiet, reticent strength, and he can’t blame his nineteen year old self for being distracted by the flashier man. If that was all it was, that he’d ditched Burr in a bar one night because he couldn’t keep up, they might have recovered.

But Burr might step back, but he’d never been the type of man to disappear. And he’d  _ waited. _ Probably tired, he’d waited patiently, alone, to see Alexander safely home. Had taken responsibility for him and his safety. He’d exhibited a level of class and decorum Alexander had never honestly believed was real before that night.

And Alexander’s stomach had dropped when he’d seen him as they left. He’d made a Dom  _ wait. _ He’d ignored him. He hadn’t known Burr yet, personally, but he wasn’t  _ completely _ uncivilized. He recognized what a cad he’d been. He’d known he deserved to be beaten and he’d feared it. Now, he knows Aaron Burr has never been that kind of man, or Dom. He’d probably been entirely literal when he’d said he just wanted to see Alexander home safely.

But he’d panicked, and he’d provoked. And for the first time, he’d actually gotten a taste of Burr’s  _ dominance. _ It’s been exceedingly rare, over the years, that he could provoke that kind of response from the other man, but that night Burr had commanded him and he’d knelt.

He’d submitted, in his heart, not just an automatic bodily response. Because this was a man who made him feel safe. Because even if he’d thought he was going to be punished, he’d been touched that Burr would  _ bother _ trying to see him home _. _ But Burr hadn’t wanted to keep him on his knees, and Alexander had been too young to understand the difference in that and not wanting to keep him at all. And he’d fought back, in his hurt, and built walls between them that neither of them had ever quite taken down.

Except that Burr is here, now, and Alexander doesn’t understand  _ why. _ He hasn’t felt so out of his depth since his first Cabinet meeting. He’d meant it when he told Burr he knew the other man hadn’t wanted him, but Burr disagreed. Told him he was wrong. He didn’t understand how that could be, and he felt himself retreating from the terrifying  _ hope _ he felt rising in his chest.

He’d nodded when Burr mentioned safewords- maybe he was going to punish him? Maybe Burr had decided to give Alex the chance to earn forgiveness… he’d been dizzy with the thought of it. He  _ needs _ absolution, almost as much as he’s realizing he needs somewhere to belong. It’s slightly easier to admit the former, at least.

Burr’s response- praise and gentle touch- startle him, but his body responds instinctively. He clings desperately, fearfully, wondering if he’s going to be shoved away.

He’s pulled closer instead.

Burr holds him, and the hand on his neck feels like coming home. Feels like getting back something he’d lost years ago. No- not lost. Thrown away, carelessly. Alex clings, burying his face in Burr’s neck, soaking up his scent and heartbeat and submerging himself in it for as long as he’ll be allowed.

Burr holds him for a long time, occasionally petting him or kissing his hair or telling him how good he is. Eventually, Alexander realizes he’s stopped crying, and that at some point he’d crawled into the other man’s lap.

“Hey,” Burr says gently when he looks up.

“Hey,” he smiles back tentatively.

“Hey,” Burr repeats, stroking his hair away from his face. Alexander leans into the touch. “How are you feeling?” Burr asks.

Alexander takes stock. “Better,” he decides. He feels compelled to honesty, though, and adds, “My head hurts.”

“You were crying really hard. You need to drink something and rest. I’ll go get-”

“No!” Burr has slid him off of his lap and stood, and Alexander grabs him by the wrist, desperately. “Stay,” he pleads.

“Okay,” Burr tells him gently, unfastening his fingers from around the Dom’s wrist. “I’ll see if someone will bring us some tea.”

“Betsy,” Alexander requests quietly. If one of the women is going to see him like this, he’d prefer it be his wife.

“Alright,” Burr tells him, stroking his hair. He steps away, pulling the door open. Alexander instinctively understands that he’s gotten as much of his way as he’s likely to and resists the urge to whine about Burr being out of reach. “Eliza?” the Dom calls, louder this time.

She appears in the doorway. “Is everything okay?” she asks.

Alexander waits for Burr to answer her, until the other man looks at him, prompting. “Better,” he tells her.

Burr smiles at him, and he feels warm all over. “Could I ask you to bring us some tea?” Burr requests gently. “I’d like to get some liquids in him, and he’d rather I stay here.”

“Oh, of course!” Eliza tells him. “I’ll be right back.”

She closes the door softly behind her. Alexander looks up at Burr trustingly, content to wait. Burr will tell him what he needs to do next. He smiles, small but pleased, when the Dom returns to sit on the bed. Burr tugs off his boots and removes his coat, setting them on the chair, before coming to lean against the headboard, pulling Alex back into his arms.

“That’s better,” the Dom says as Alex settles trustingly against him. “Is this alright?” Burr asks, stroking his hair.

Alexander frowns, making a small noise of protest.  _ He _ doesn’t want to decide what’s alright- isn’t that Burr’s job?

“I’m going to need you to use your words,” Burr tells him. “I know you’ve got plenty of them.” The correction is mild- too mild to ever be mistaken for scolding- but Alex winces. He can’t even  _ cuddle _ right!

Burr must feel him tense. “Shhhh,” he soothes, the hand petting him sliding through his hair to grip the back of his neck, fingers rubbing firm circles. “You’re okay. You’re doing fine, honey, I promise. Let’s try again- do you like this?” he continues holding him and petting as he asks.

Alex suddenly feels shy, nodding and turning his face into Burr’s shoulder.  _ Shit. _ He remembers too late that Burr had asked for a verbal answer. But Burr hums approvingly.

“Good,” the Dom tells him. “I like it, too.”

Burr doesn’t ask him anything else, just holds him close and pets him, humming quietly as he does. Alexander drifts on how nice it is to let Burr take the lead. He startles when Eliza knocks on the door, but settles when Burr waves her in.

“I hope you don’t mind, I made peppermint tea. It helps, sometimes,” Eliza tells Burr.

“That sounds perfect. Thank you, dear,” Burr tells her. He nudges Alexander to sit up and he does, smiling bashfully at Betsy. She’s never seen him like this, and he’s a little embarrassed. He’s spent so many years pretending he’s not a sub, he feels weird revelling in it now.

Eliza puts the tray on the bedside table, pouring for both of them before curtseying and retreating. “You can stay,” she tells Burr uncertainly. “I just… it’s my house too, and he’s not really in any shape to invite you but… I think you should stay.”

Alex checks Burr’s face, worried his wife has overstepped and offended the Dom. But Burr only smiles at her gently, squeezing Alex’s hand and ghosting a kiss across his hair before telling her, “Thank you. I will, if Alexander agrees.”

“Please,” Alexander tells him hoarsely, the word sticking in his throat. He’s not sure why he’s afraid to make the request- it’s not like he could get any more pathetic, or make his desire any more clear. He  _ hid under the covers _ when Burr came in, nevermind clinging when the man tried to go make tea. Still, the single word feels like letting go of something he’s clung to for a long time, and he takes a deep breath as the weight of it sinks in.

Burr smiles at him broadly. “Thank you,” the Dom says. Alexander looks at him for a long moment, but he sees nothing but gratitude and affection. He relaxes, pleased he seems to have gotten that one right.

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Good night,” Eliza says, curtseying before she slips out, closing the door behind her. Alexander feels a surge of affection for his beautiful, wonderful wife. They aren’t each other’s great loves, but they  _ are _ life partners, in a very real way. And he loves her desperately, especially in moments like this. He suddenly understands how she’d felt the night he brought Maria home and pressed her into his wife’s care.

Burr offers him a teacup. “I want you to drink all of that,” he says, soft but firm. Alexander obeys, soothed by the minty scent as he inhales before drinking. Peppermint does help his head, and he feels a little better as he finishes the cup and passes it back to the Dom.

“Better?” Burr asks.

Alexander nods, still feeling too shy to offer more.

Burr places both cups back on the tray Eliza’d brought them on. “I think we need to talk,” the Dom tells him.

Alexander goes cold, sitting up and pulling away. There are a few ways this could go, and none of them are good. Burr may be about to tell him he came because Angelica made him, but the crisis is over and he shouldn’t impose on him again. Or that he’s happy to provide emergency support but Alexander needs to try to manage without him. The best possible scenario is that now that he’s calm Burr has decided to punish him, if not for the election then at least for his rude letter. He’s at least relatively sure that Burr wouldn’t leave him right after punishing him.

It’s terrifying that that’s what he’s  _ hoping _ for. Washington had tended toward the paternal, but he was neither Alexander’s Dom nor actually his father- he’d corrected, more than punished, really. Quiet time to think and calm down, any discomfort incidental and secondary. He’d submitted for John in play, but he’d never belonged to him, and John had been adamant about freeing him from his submission outside the bedroom. John had hurt him, but never for any reason other than that they both wanted it.

The closest he’s faced to true punishment was Cruger, back on the island. His brother, a Dom, had managed to secure an apprenticeship when they found themselves suddenly on their own, but life was not easy or fun for a young, submissive, orphaned clerk on Nevis. His Master- for that had been how Cruger insisted on being addressed, treating Alexander as something between ward, submissive, and slave- was a cruel man, so he’s not unfamiliar with the punishing lash of a whip.

He doesn’t  _ want _ that from Burr, however useless and unproductive the thought is. Not only because it will hurt- that’s the easier half of it, he’s got quite a tolerance for pain- but because he doesn’t want to disappoint the Dom. Doesn’t want Burr to feel he  _ deserves _ that kind of pain. Still, he’s never been very good at prevarication- he knows he earned it. The only question is if Burr thinks it’s worth bothering.

That’s why Alexander is hoping for pain- because now that he’s been in Burr’s arms, he wants to stay there. He wants Burr to claim him, and keep him, and he knows that comes with responsibilities as well as protection and affection. He’ll gladly accept it all, even the hard parts, but he can’t quite find the nerve to ask. Isn’t sure if he’s even allowed to, as the submissive.

So he waits, feeling cold and small with the scant few inches of mattress that separate him from Burr now stretched between them.

He waits and he hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, sorry! It was a natural, albeit cliffhanger-y break! Should I update again on like, Tuesday to make up for it? Now that we know what *Alex* thinks is up, we need to switch back to Burr and let him handle things for a little while.
> 
> ALSO: I have written 25 pages so far of a sequel about the Marbury v. Madison trial???? I mean, I'm still actively writing this one, it isn't quite done, but a plot bunny got me- what *would* it be like, if Alex had lived into Thomas Jefferson's administration? For Alex and Burr? For Jefferson and Madison? For AMERICA? (I know he actually did live through Jefferson's first term and did not reenter politics directly, but Hamilton seems to kill him off in late 1800 or 1801, right after the election. I'm basically taking this as an AU of America and of Hamilton from this chapter on, when Alex doesn't die. Soooo if you guys want to read the continuations, I'll take what's useful to me from history to tell THIS story.)


	5. Chapter 5: Agreements and Definitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally have that talk Burr wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I just love them so much!!! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I'd love to know what you're enjoying/hoping for! And I've just about wrapped up writing this fic (I think we have 2-3 chapters to go) so what would you like to see after this one?  
> A snapshot of Alex and the Revolutionary Set during the war?  
> How Maria joined the family?  
> Alex trying to figure out how to be the VP's sub/ potentially befriending Jefferson? (Or at least being civil, let's be real here...)  
> I'm totally writing all of those things eventually, just deciding where to go *next* (There's also going to potentially be an epistolary fic at some point of Laf/Alex after Laf goes back to France.)  
> Thanks for reading!!!!

Burr is pleased to see some color returning to Alexander as they drink their tea. He’s quiet and soft in a way he isn’t usually, more submissive than Burr has seen him in years. It’s good that Alexander is letting that side of himself out, but he still doesn’t seem to be able to find balance- how to be himself  _ and _ submissive. They’re going to need to work on that, but Burr supposes they’ve got time. He has been invited to stay, after all. At least for the night.

Burr lets them both have a few moments of peace as they finish the tea, enjoying the weight of the other man against him. He’s been mostly alone since Theodosia died, rarely seeing anyone but Theo outside of politics, and he’s man enough to admit he’s been lonely. It’s nice to just hold someone he cares about close.

Still, they do need to talk, so after Alexander passes back his finished teacup, he says so, gentle but determined. If this is going to be something, he needs to know. And if it isn’t, he needs to try to bury his feelings for Alexander, enough to get the man back on an even keel without destroying himself in the process.

The change in the other man is immediate. The warm weight against him pulls away abruptly, Alexander pulling back across the bed and settling on his knees, steeling himself visibly and looking like he’s barely breathing.

“Hey. Hey, what’s this?” Burr asks carefully, not reaching for Alexander because of how deliberately he’s pulled away. Why a simple request to talk has upset him so much, Burr can’t even begin to guess.

“You can hurt me, just stay,” Alexander tells him, and it’s a demand, shaky but authoritative, the weight of a man whose words have literally shaped their young country thrown into convincing him, though Alex doesn’t even attempt to meet his eyes.

The force of the words wash over him before he can even decipher the meaning. But when he does- “Alexander,” Burr asks, slow and careful and coiled, like a viper ready to strike, “What did you just say to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Alexander breathes, looking down at his own knees. “I shouldn’t try to tell you what to do.”

Burr laughs at that. “You don’t usually give me orders, I’ll give you that. But you’ve never been hesitant about letting me know exactly what you think of my plans and my options.”

“I’ll stop, I’ll do better, I’ll be the kind of sub you want-” Alexander sounds so  _ young _ like this, so nervous and desperate.

“Alexander.” The name is a smooth command and Alex falls silent. Nowi it’s up to him to say what needs to be said. He supposes there’s only one logical starting point, and just starting there should reassure Alexander immensely.

“Do you want to be mine?” He sees Alex square his shoulders, ready to make a speech, and holds up a hand. “Ah! One word. Yes or no, please.”

“Yes,” Alexander breathes immediately.

“Good. Thank you. I want that, too. That’s the basics. It’s the main thing. The details, we’ll figure out later. Now, I want to know exactly why you offered to let me hurt you,” he says firmly.

Alexander risks a quick glance at his face, set in stern lines as he waits for an answer, and shrinks back. “I…” he tries, but words seem to fail him.

Burr gentles his tone slightly. “Come here,” he says. Alexander shifts within his reach on the bed, looking nervous. Burr wraps a supportive hand around the back of his neck, steadying him. He resists the urge to pull him fully into a hug because he has a feeling he’s going to need to see the sub’s eyes. “Now tell me, please,” he requests softly.

“I have a high pain tolerance,” Alexander tells him.

“I count dodging the question as a lie, Alexander. There will be consequences for that, from here on out,” Burr warns, thumb still tracing careful circles on the back of Alex’s neck.

“I want to be forgiven,” Alexander admits softly.

Burr rewards the truth with a soft kiss to his forehead. “You already are, sweetheart. We’re fine.”

“I need absolution,” the sub confesses, even quieter.

Ah. Forgiveness and absolution are not the same thing, Burr knows. Both can come at the end of a punishment, but in different ways. Forgiveness, Burr can grant. Alexander won’t get his absolution until  _ he  _ feels he’s earned it, regardless of what Burr says.

“Okay,” he says carefully, “I can understand that. We can do that. The kneeling- it didn’t help? Angelica told me you knelt for hours.”

“You didn’t send a letter back. I thought you were done with me, that my letter had been the last straw,” Alexander confesses.

“Never. It gave me a lot to think about, and I wasn’t ready to respond right away,” Burr tells him. “So I didn’t reply, and that’s why you knelt?”

“Washington used to make me stand at attention. I hated it. He’d just leave me like that, for ages. Once he was President, he said the office was too distracting for me. He made me face the wall. I think there’s still a spot in the old office where I wore the paint away glaring at it,” Alexander explains.

“Leave you?” Burr questions. That doesn’t sound like the General.

“Not leave me. He never left me, and he never let anybody else in. I had permission to break position if somebody came in without asking. But he just put me there- a couple of times, when I’d been fighting with Jefferson, he actually did  _ put _ me at the wall, because I was so wound up I wasn’t listening. It was his way of punishing me and calming me down.”

“So you were mimicking the last person who punished you?” Burr checks.

“Yes!” Alexander looks so relieved to be understood.

And Burr thinks he does. Alexander said himself that he’d wanted absolution. Thinking Burr was uninterested in providing it, he’d sought it on his own. “Why?” Burr asks. “Why do you think you deserve to be punished?”

“You should’ve been President. And I was awful to you, today,” Alexander admits.

“The delegates’ decision was heavily influenced by you, yes. But I’m not unaware of my involvement in getting you to the point that you lashed out like that,” Burr tells him. He'd meant what he told Angelica- he blames himself, not Alex, for letting things get to this point.

.”I’m so sorry,” Alexander tells him, achingly sincere. “I gave up on running myself one day to protect Eliza, when she and Maria nearly came to light. I ruined  _ your  _ chances out of spite.”

“I forgive you.” Alexander looks ready to object, so Burr hushes him and adds, “And I’ll punish you. But not for me not being President. For using your mind and that sharp tongue to lash out instead of reaching out when you needed me. I expect that to stop today.”

Alexander presses his lips together, and Burr isn’t sure if he’s fighting back words or worried the ‘sharp tongue’ comment is a hint about his punishment. “Your safeword is Princeon, right?” he asks. Alexander nods. “Anything else I need to know for this? Anything you absolutely can’t stand? What works for you?”

“Abandonment,” Alexander says immediately, the word jumping all over itself in his haste to get it out. “Don’t leave me alone, please.”

“Okay. I can do that,” Burr tells him, considering. “Is that out of sight, out of reach, or out of the room completely?” he clarifies.

“I don’t know? Haven’t really tested it. I just know how I feel about you leaving because of… because of what I did. And it isn’t pretty,” Alexander admits.

“Don’t worry,” Burr tells him gently. He squeezes Alexander’s neck before standing up, looking around the room. “Now, let’s get this done.”

“Here?” Alexander squeaks. “Now?” he sounds shocked.

“I’d rather be able to go ahead and put this behind us, yes,” Burr tells him. “Unless you have any objections?”

“No Doms actually live here,” Alexander tells him. “I don’t- I’m not- I know we say I’m a switch, but it’s a lie…” Burr had known that, already. He nods, encouraging Alexander. He can’t fill in blanks for him, because he has no idea what the other man is worried about.

“I mean, Angelica has her own house. And it’s not like I bring Doms home, and Betsy doesn’t... “ he stops himself.

“Maria’s told me. Attorney-client privilege,” he reassures Alexander, who is looking vaguely panicky about what he’s nearly revealed. Burr knows about Alexander the fake switch and his homo-dynamic wife and her lover, none of this is news. He just isn’t sure how it’s relevant.

“So it’s not like there are any implements lying around,” Alexander tells him quickly. Something seems to occur to him. “I mean, there’s the horse tackle in the stables, but I don’t know what options we’d have…”

Burr wonders if it’s the formalized nature of implement selection Alexander is wanting or the severity. He’ll unbend for the former- they can probably hunt up a ruler or something- but he’s not going to beat the other man bloody. He’s always believed punishment works best when it leaves the submissive capable of  _ thinking _ about their mistake, not just how much pain they’re in.

“What are you thinking?” Aaron asks, deciding to be direct.

“I don’t think we’d have anything worse than a carriage whip,” Alexander explains. “Do you want to go back to your house now for something or wait for tomorrow?” Severity, then. He’s unsure what ideas about punishment Alexander may have picked up over his lifetime- having known the other man for two and a half decades, he knows everything about him in some ways and nothing at all in others- but he’s not going to be pushed into extremes because it’s what the sub  _ expects. _ Alexander can just learn a new set of expectations..

“No,” Burr tells him slowly. His goal here is absolution, which requires Alexander to feel like he’s paid for the mistake, but he’d rather reach it by getting Alexander to open up enough to  _ receive _ forgiveness, not by overwhelming him with so much pain it washes everything else away.

“What?” Alexander asks, visibly caught off guard.

“I said ‘No.’ You don’t get to decide the severity or method of your punishment, Alexander,” Burr tells him firmly. He looks around before moving the chair in the corner near the bed to the open part of the room, leaving his boots on the floor and his jacket tossed carelessly onto the nightstand.

He’s taking Alexander’s request not to abandon him into consideration, so he plans to put the submissive over his knee. That way, Alexander can feel him. And he’s positioned them so that the mirror on the washstand should catch his face, if Alexander needs to see it.

He sits, checking that he’s visible in the small mirror. “Come here,” he requests.

“What are you going to do?” Alexander asks nervously.

“That is not obedience,” Burr tells him. “If you need to know, I will tell you. Beyond that, you safeword, or you obey.”

“Safeword? For punishment?” Alexander checks.

“Safeword in the middle of breakfast or the middle of a scene. Any time you aren’t okay, you let me know. If there isn’t a good way to tell me, you use your word.” Burr is utterly implacable on this point. Alexander nods, stepping toward him.

Seems startled when Burr folds his nightshirt up to expose his bottom. Burr doesn’t let it distract him, just pulls the submissive gently into position.

“You don’t lash out when you’re hurt. You tell someone what’s wrong, and you let me help,” Burr scolds, beginning the punishment. He wanted this spanking to be intimate and close, given the situation, but he knows it’s going to have to be long enough and hard enough to make Alexander feel truly punished.

The submissive obviously considers the simple punishment beneath him, but he accepts it with only wordless complaint. The look on his face as Burr pulls him over and the offended line of his back make it clear he thinks he’s being mocked. For his part, Burr  _ just keeps spanking. _ Slowly, it seems to be getting to Alexander, his breathing bordering on gasps and his body tensing with the effort of keeping still.

“There have been far too many times over the years I should’ve put you over my knee and I haven’t,” Burr tells Alex, the words pitched soothingly. “You should’ve been able to count on me to take care of you.” These are the truths Alexander needs to absorb, here.

“I can take care of myself!” The words are well rehearsed- something Alexander has been telling himself and everyone else for years. They also aren’t going to be tolerated any longer.

Burr moves the sharp slaps to Alexander’s thighs, increasing the force, to really drive that point home. “That is not your job,” he scolds. Alexander never should’ve been left to fend for himself. Burr curses himself for letting insecurity and fear of rejection keep him from stepping in years ago. “No one can truly take care of themselves- we  _ all _ need other people, Alexander, and there’s no harm in that. Independence is situational, not the pinnacle of virtue.”

“I’m not going to be some wilting submissive kneeling at your feet!” Alexander howls at him. The spanking is doing its job and loosening his tongue, the position and intimacy breaking down barriers and the sharp sting irritating his nerves so he’s less able to hold in his reactions.

“You will kneel when you need to,” Burr insists, returning the spanking to Alexander’s reddened cheeks. He thinks he’s found what they really need to work through, here, to let Alexander put this behind him. He lashed out because he needed and wanted to submit to Burr, and he felt that submission was shameful. He needs to understand he’s wrong.

“What, you want me to be some trophy you parade around the new executive mansion on a leash? Is that how you’re planning on getting your own back against me and Jefferson? I opposed you publicly so you’re going to make me kneel for you publicly so everyone can see how  _ powerful _ you are? How much better than the  _ subs _ who helped Washington shape the country?” Alexander accuses. “You have no beliefs you’ll stand up for but you could make me give up standing up at all?”

Burr stops spanking. He shouldn’t be surprised- Alexander Hamilton’s way with words is  _ legendary, _ is the very foundation of the man and his mythos. He’s had that tongue turned against him before, and knows how deadly it can be. But an accusation like that isn’t something he can just spank his submissive through- they need to discuss this. And he needs to see Alexander’s eyes.

He pushes the submissive gently off of his lap to kneel beside him. Alexander immediately tries to push himself to his feet. “I take it your plan finally sounds as ridiculous to you as it would to everyone else,” he says haughtily.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to get up,” Burr tells him sternly.

Alexander freezes awkwardly. He’s not willing to reach out to balance on Burr (and isn’t that metaphoric of this whole mess?) and he’s stuck uncomfortably half risen, obviously off balance. Burr could probably leave him there as a punishment of its own, as a stress position. The poor man looks miserable, his nightshirt still halfway pulled up to expose his smarting bottom and face scrunched in powerless frustration.

“Alexander, you said you wanted to be mine. If that’s true, then there’s no shame in obeying me,” Burr reminds him gently.

The words have the opposite desired effect. Alexander leaps to his feet, putting as much distance as he can between them in the bedroom and awkwardly smoothing his nightshirt down. “I won’t give up my  _ self  _ for whatever paltry comfort you can offer,” he says stiffly.

“Sweetheart,” Burr breathes, shocked- that that is what Alexander thinks submission is, that he thinks that’s what Burr would ask of him.

They obviously should’ve done more talking before he agreed to punish Alexander, but they’re apparently going to do it now. “Okay,” Burr says, gathering his wits, “We obviously should’ve gone more in depth. When I asked if you wanted to be mine and said I wanted that too, I think we thought it meant very different things.”

“Just another thing you won’t commit to,” Alexander sneers. “I’m impressed, Burr, you pretended to want something for a whole half hour before you rabbitted. Is that a new record?”

“Oh, I am very committed,” Burr tells him, standing up. “Get dressed.”

“What?” Alexander asks, thrown off guard.

“You won’t kneel and talk to me from a place of trust. So I want it very clear that we’re having this conversation as equals. Get dressed, and we’re going to go down to your office,” Burr instructs.

“I don’t need clothes to prove I’m your equal,” Alexander tells him- and pulls off his nightshirt, standing before him, nude and proud.

It’s weaponized sexuality and disobedience. It’s designed to knock him off guard, Burr knows. All it does is make him sad, that this beautiful man is so unable to let go and trust, even when he desperately wants to.

“Well, then I suppose I’ll let the venue for this conversation be your call. I’m not sure how the girls would react to you wandering the house naked,” Burr concedes.

“I’ve done stranger, but Maria would probably appreciate my refraining,” Alexander admits.

Burr settles easily on the bed, one leg curled under him and facing Alexander. “I should’ve made sure you knew what I was offering, when I asked you to be mine,” he says, opening the conversation.

“I’ve worked it out, and realized I don’t want it. You can go,” Alexander tells him.

“You really haven’t,” Burr says, shaking his head. “I’ve known you for close to thirty years, Alexander. I didn’t expect a different person to take over your body when you became mine.”

“Just hoped?” Alexander asks, all petulant snark.

“Alexander!” Burr scolds automatically.

“Hamilton. If you know we’re  _ equals,” _ Alexander spits it doubtfully, “Then address me with the respect you expect.”

“I don’t think so,” Burr says, considering. Burr and Hamilton sound too distant, too much like politics instead of their personal lives. “You call me Aaron, instead. Address me with the  _ affection _ I offer you.”

Alexander looks stymied by that. In a formalized, dynamic context, Doms go by their surnames, switches can vary, and subs by their first. Among friends and lovers, given names become more common. Burr realizes suddenly that, while Hamilton has used his full name occasionally, he’s never heard just his given name from the other’s lips. It says a lot about how Alexander has viewed their relationship, and he feels guilty for not realizing it sooner.

“Affection?” he says finally. “You say  _ Alexander _ like it’s a reprimand,  _ Aaron.” _

Burr thinks he’d like to hear Alexander say his given name fondly. He wonders if he’ll ever get to. For now, he remembers the nickname John had preferred. “Alex, then,” he decides.

No objection to that one, apparently. Alexander mostly looks startled to have gotten away with calling him Aaron. Burr tries to get the conversation back on track.

“When I asked you to be mine, I was asking you to trust me with your submission. To let me take care of you, and trust me to keep that part of you safe,” he tries to explain.”To trust me to keep you safe and love you.” That’s all he wants, really- and his failure to pursue things with Alexander years ago mostly comes down to his enduring belief that Alexander wasn’t capable of allowing that. He’s beginning to suspect that Alexander’s limits haven’t changed, but he’s surprised to find that his own have. If Alex doesn’t know how to trust, Aaron will just teach him.

“And in a moment of weakness, I was prepared to promise all of that. But it wasn’t a promise I can keep. I can’t believe I ever attempted it,” Alexander says derisively. “I was not myself, and I requested your assistance in a most unseemly manner. My apologies.”

“You were dropping, and you needed help. Alex, there has never been a single day in all of the years I’ve known you that I wouldn’t have helped you through a drop. All you ever had to do was let me know you needed me,” Burr assures him.

“You have,” Alexander admits haltingly, voice grating the edges of something he doesn’t want to admit. “After a battle, or if John and I had played especially hard… or other times, later… I’ve felt like that. John didn’t want to take advantage of my brain chemistry, and there’s been no one else I’ve really trusted. Sometimes, if I noticed early enough, I could convince him I was just horny and ask for an intense enough scene to settle it. Usually, though…”

Alexander comes up against the edge of a confession, but he can’t quite make it. Burr can well imagine that, to someone who feels shame in submission, the power dynamic of this conversation is horribly skewed and exposing. He can try to fix that.

“I dropped terribly when I got your letter. Angelica telling me what shape you were in was enough to get me moving, but I didn’t begin to feel better until I had you in my arms. Your brain chemistry doesn’t make you any weaker than mine does me- I was utterly undone,” Burr confesses.

“Sometimes, when I’ve been in that place, the only thing that makes it better has been your hand on my neck or my arm, or those little things you always phrase as orders, telling me to breathe or slow down or stop and talk with you,” Alex admits. “It’s not just touch, or commands. Eliza can’t do it, or even Angelica. Washington sort of could, but he had so many more important things to do, I didn’t like to lean on him for that.”

Somehow, the words are far more of a show of vulnerability than walking around nude had been. Alexander obviously feels the vulnerability, wrapping an arm around his own waist. Burr wishes the sub were confident enough to reach  _ out _ for reassurance. Since he isn’t, Burr gets up, retrieving the dressing gown hung by the bedroom door and offering it wordlessly.

Alexander lets him smooth the garment over his shoulders, tying the sash for him and using the excuse of fixing the lapel to touch him gently. “Like that,” Alexander breathes, and Burr understands- he’d seen that Alex was unsettled and instinctively reached out to help, just like he has hundreds of times before.

“The first section of your recriminations,” he realizes. That whole first section had been the little settling or protective things he’s done over the years.

“Quite,” Alex admits. “I suppose I was blaming you for making me need you, by always stepping up to fill that need.”

“Not always,” Burr corrects gently. “There was another section.”

“Ah, yes, the few times in poor Alexander’s life he’s actually had to stand on his own and be a man,” Alexander snorts derisively.

“Was Washington a strong man?” Burr asks, taking a different tact.

“Of course!” Alex splutters, scandalized.

“Did he not need Martha? And the children? Did he not need you and John and Lafayette at his side during the war? To the point of keeping  _ you  _ out of combat until the very end? Did he not need you so much that when he found himself leading again, he sought you out?” Burr asks.

“I never thought of him  _ needing _ me,” Alex admits. “He said he did. He even told me once that the reason I couldn’t have a command was because he needed me alive. He always called me his right hand man. And he brought his family to the city so he could see them, sometimes even in the middle of the day for just an hour or two, when he was struggling. Being with his family gave him strength.”

“So even the strongest men are allowed to need others. Even Washington. Then why not you?” Burr asks softly.

“I do need people. I need Eliza and Maria and Angelica. I need you, just not enough to give up what it would cost me to be yours,” Alex admits, his voice tiny.

“What do you imagine it would cost, sweetheart?” Burr asks gently.

“I couldn’t be  _ me _ anymore. I’d have to be quiet, not speak out. I couldn’t publish anything I write without your approval. I couldn’t  _ talk to people  _ without your approval, and I suppose I’d have to stay near you so you knew I wasn’t speaking out of turn,” Alexander imagines.

“Absolutely not,” Burr tells him. “I fell in love with Alexander Hamilton, why would I want to get rid of him? You… Alexander, you  _ just founded a newspaper.” _ Burr can’t help laughing at the absurdity of it.

“You see? ‘Me’ is totally incompatible with submission,” Alex tells him.

“No, you just have no idea what submission actually  _ is,” _ Burr corrects him gently.

“You already knew I’m a bad sub,” Alex tells him, spine stiff with hurt and his tone clipped.

_ “No,” _ Burr insists immediately. “You really aren’t, sweetheart. Being afraid to submit and being bad at it aren’t the same thing.” He can’t help reaching out to soothe Alexander, and the sub relaxes fractionally into the gentle hand stroking his back. “So brave,” Burr praises him, continuing his gentle touch. “And so good for me, letting me take care of you. This is it- sweetheart, you’re doing it.”

Alex starts to pull away in instinctive mistrust, but then he does something so beautiful Burr almost weeps with it- he steps closer instead, ducking his head so Burr can’t see his expression. Burr pulls him into a hug, letting him hide his face as he continues to stroke Alexander’s back. “That was so good, Alex. You didn’t push back, you let me help. Good boy,” he praises quietly, speaking directly into the submissive’s ear.

Alex shudders, fingers grasping tightly at the fabric of Burr’s shirt. Burr just pets him through the fear. “What I said earlier, about letting me take care of you and trusting me to keep you safe, that’s  _ all _ I was asking for, Alex. Not your words, not your place in the world. Just your heart. What were you asking for, when you said you wanted to be mine?”

“Stay,” Alexander breathes quietly. “I just wanted you to stay.”

That Alexander wouldn’t think to ask for anything more than his presence makes Burr sad, but he nods. “Okay. Okay, Alex, I can do that. So we start with what you want- you want me to stay, and you want your words. Me not interfering with what you write or say, out in the world. I can promise you both of those things. Anything else?”

“If I’m saying what I believe,” Alex admits. “You could… you  _ should _ stop me if I’m just breaking things because I can.”

Well, Burr knows exactly what he means by that. “That’s fair,” he agrees. “Now, what I wanted: You’re doing so well, letting me take care of you. But I think you were right, when you said you  _ can’t _ give me your trust.”

Alexander  _ clings. _ “You promised!” he whines, breath shuddering with approaching tears.

It takes Burr a moment to parse that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. “There’s a difference in can’t and won’t. You can’t just hand me your trust because I’ve asked for it. But I think we can build that trust. That I can prove I deserve it and you can learn to give it. Then it becomes a choice, and I hope you’ll eventually be able to choose to trust me.”

“Aaron,” Alex breathes against his neck.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Burr asks.

“Can I add kisses to the things I want out of this? I really want a kiss,” he requests, tilting his chin up and fluttering his eyelashes prettily.

“Oh, I think making sure you’re properly kissed falls under taking care of you,” Bur tells him, pressing their lips together. Alexander opens up for him easily, sweet and yielding. Burr knows it won’t usually be like this, that Alex will make him work for every moment of tenderness, and he almost looks forward to the challenge. He did fall in love with Alexander Hamilton, after all.


	6. Chapter 6: Kisses, Beginnings, and the Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're agreed- they're in love. Now they just have to face the girls.
> 
> Or, Eliza Hamilton: Saintly Hostess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This maybe should've been two chapters, but I wanted this brief foray into Eliza's thoughts. I think next chapter is the last one, unless I do an epilogue of them actually sceneing. Should I?  
> I feel a little bit like I'm writing in a vacuum- I'm enjoying this story, but I don't know if but like 2 people are reading it? I think I need to find a Hamilton fan community. The kink meme seems to be defunct, but... it's literally the most amazing thing ever, there are tons of fics, there must be people talking about Hamilton somewhere, and I think I need to be excited and nerdy with other people.

That first kiss is everything Alexander wanted it to be, which, conversely, terrifies him. He has so much more to lose, with Burr being so perfect. It would be easier if the other man were domineering, like he’d feared. But Burr is soft and careful with him. Like he’s a treasure, not just a possession.

“I feel so stupid,” he admits miserably.

“Never,” Burr tells him, giving him another quick kiss before asking, “Why?”

“This isn’t the awful, terrifying thing I’ve always made it out to be. We could’ve had this. I mean, secretly, of course, but there’s been nothing stopping us but my stubbornness the past few years.” Since Burr’s wife died, he doesn’t say.

“Why secretly?” Burr asks.

“No one can know I’m a sub,” Alex reminds him, suddenly worried. Does Burr expect public declarations? It would ruin his legacy. If people knew he was a sub, no one would listen.

“They think you’re a switch. It’s not unusual for a man who switches to settle down with a wife and then if she isn’t a switch get his other needs met elsewhere. Even Jefferson only keeps he and Madison out of the public eye for Dolley’s sake, since  _ Madison _ isn’t a switch- he just has two subs. They have an understanding, but socially, none of us can know it’s happening. They’re very careful not to show their dynamic anywhere but in private. I only know because I walked in on them once, when we were researching  _ you,” _ Burr explains.

“So we could… be discrete, but be together?” Alex asks, hopeful.

“We could. You can come to DC with me, for the Inauguration, if you want,” Burr offers.

“That’s….” Another problem occurs to Alex. “Except now no one can know I’m your sub. They’ll say you’re weak. That your sub spoke out against you like that… you’d be a laughing stock.” He hadn’t known how much he wanted people to know he was Burr’s until he realized he’s made it impossible.

“You weren’t my sub, then,” Burr points out.

“Even worse, that you’d take me after I behaved like that,” Alex muses. Then he has an idea. “Unless they can see I’ve been brought to heel,” he suggests. “If you  _ tamed _ Alexander Hamilton, Washington’s Little Lion, then we could get away with it.”

“No one is  _ taming _ you,” Burr tells him. “And I wouldn’t ask you to pretend to be… beaten, or less, for my sake.”

“Maybe I need to be tamed,” Alex argues. He’s a hurricane in and of himself, he knows. He destroys as much as he creates, and he hates himself for it. Lafayette used to say that there were creators, destroyers, and caretakers in the world. Laf had proudly been on the side of needful destruction, and he’d always insisted Alex was a creator. That’s why they worked so well- Lafayette clearing the past so Alex and John could build the future, Hercules taking care of all of them and assisting as needed. How far he’s fallen since those idealistic days.

Burr scratches his scalp soothingly. “Well, you’re not feral. You’ll let me handle you. That’s a change- and about as tame as I want you. I’m picky- I don’t allow anyone but me and you to dictate what my sub should be like.”

“We could make a show of it, just once. You put me in my place in public- or in the press, if you don’t have the stomach for public chastisement- and show everyone you’re strong enough to manage me,” Alex suggests.

“I think I’d rather just make you my Chief of Staff,” Burr muses. “We show a united front and people see we were both big enough to put our disagreements behind us.”

“The Vice President doesn’t even  _ do _ anything, why would you need a Chief of Staff?” Alex grumbles. That sounds an awful lot like an underhanded punishment- put him in a place in the government where he has to keep his mouth shut but can’t actually  _ do _ anything. He’s not denying that he deserves to be punished- but he’d rather Burr were  _ honest _ about it.

“I mean, I’ll be presiding over the Senate. Are you telling me you don’t want to help me babysit grown politicians?” Burr teases him. “But I think we could find a way to do something important, between the two of us. If nothing else, we’ll be able to keep a close eye on Jefferson.”

“I’d rather not,” Alexander admits, awkwardly unsure if he’s allowed to refuse. “I will if you say!” he promises hastily, immediately regretting the hesitant refusal.

“You’re allowed to say no, Alex,” Burr reassures him. “I’m just remembering what you said about staying, and thinking you don’t want me to go to DC without you.”

“The Post needs tariff information, why not political updates? How relevant laws might affect commerce? I can go down to report,” Alex suggests, warmed by the Dom’s concern.

“Will Eliza be alright?” Bur asks. “I don’t want to pull you away from your family.”

“I can go back and forth,” Alex assures him. “And you can spend time in New York, still. Adams was home as much as he was in the office.”

“I wish we could just admit what we feel, and not worry about the rumors,” Burr says, frustrated.

“We could pretend you killed me in a duel, and you could go into hiding to avoid being arrested and I’ll assume a new identity and join you,” Alex suggests jokingly.

“You’d have to do the shooting. You’re the marksman. My fellow soldiers will tell you I’m a terrible shot,” Burr tells him.

“Nah, I would obviously do something dramatic like insist on the duel but then aim my pistol at the sky. Like I told Phillip-” the joke isn’t very funny anymore.

Burr pulls him closer and kisses his head. “We’ll make that plan C.”

“What’s plan A?” Alex asks curiously.

“Brazen it out,” Burr assures him. “Not shove it in people’s faces, but not lie if we are eventually confronted.” That sounds more like an Alex plan than a Burr one. He’s oddly touched that the other man is willing to stand and admit to their relationship, when the time comes.

“Then what’s plan B?” Alex wonders.

“We’ll figure it out when we get to it,” Burr tells him. “For now, I want you to get some rest.”

Burr has a way of saying things like that, where they aren’t really orders except that they  _ are. _ Alex hesitates before pointing out, “We were in the middle of something.” He gestures awkwardly toward the chair.

Burr takes his hands and tugs him so he can see his face. “Do you need me to finish tonight?” he asks seriously.

Alexander bites his lip and nods reluctantly. He doesn’t  _ like _ being punished, or deserving it. But he feels terrible, and he’d rather have it over with and know it’s truly behind them. It’s amazing enough that Burr wants to be with him, he knows he’ll have an easier time believing it’s real with nothing hanging over his head.

“Alright.” Burr, perfect as always, kisses his forehead before pulling him gently back into place. The Dom adjusts them once he’s seated, before reaching out and unfastening Alex’s dressing gown. He lets it fall off of his shoulders when Aaron pushes, and suddenly he’s standing there naked and ready to be punished. He feels vulnerable in a different way than he did earlier, because uncomfortable as the feeling is, he trusts Aaron not to take advantage of it.

The Dom pulls him into place and tells him, “You’ve been very good for me tonight. You’ve done a good job talking about big things so we could make everything better. Now all that’s left is your spanking for lashing out instead of admitting to me that you needed me.” His tone is warm and even and even though he’s about to be punished, Alex finds that he isn’t scared.

Burr helps him into position and Alex is surprised to realize he can see the Dom- his Dom? He likes the idea of saying ‘my Dom’- in the reflection from the mirror he uses to shave. Knowing Burr, he wouldn’t be remotely surprised to find out it’s intentional, and Alexander finds the thought comforting. He can see the other man, as much as he needs.

He holds himself stiffly, waiting for the punishment to begin. Finally, the first spank falls, hard, and he gasps. He’d been distracted enough that he’d forgotten how tender he already was, and he wasn’t prepared for the sharp bite of it. Burr continues to spank, slowly, methodically,  _ hard, _ as he tells him, “From now on, you  _ are not on your own. _ I’m with you every step of the way, however I can help. I was always yours for the asking, Alex, but you don’t have to worry about asking anymore. It’s understood.”

Alex processes this as Burr continues to rain hard spanks down on every inch of his sensitive flesh. He’d thought the punishment insultingly mild when they set out, but he hadn’t counted on just how  _ relentless _ Burr would be.with it. An individual swat might not be so bad, but the combined sting of them is overpowering, and he’s becoming increasingly afraid they’ll never stop.

Alexander focuses on just absorbing the punishing blows. He earned them, and Burr won’t give him more than he can take. He feels himself starting to go floaty- not an endorphin rush, just the surety that Burr has everything under control and he can trust the other man to sort it out. He breathes deeply and accepts the painful spanks, letting them wash away his miserable guilt, and before he knows it Burr is stroking his back gently.

“Let’s get you up, good boy,” Aaron tells him, helping him to his feet. Alex goes without protest, wincing as his sore flesh stretches with the change in position. “You did so well for me, baby, I’m so proud of you. You’re forgiven, shhh, it’s all alright,” Burr soothes him, and Alex becomes dimly aware that he’s crying.

Burr helps him into his nightshirt, hanging the dressing gown back up. He settles Alex in bed before going to return the chair to its original place, looking like he intends to sit there and keep watch. Alex reaches for him hopefully, making a noise of protest.

Burr comes close enough to pet his hair, and Alex leans into the touch like a kitten. Burr chuckles, a warm, affectionate sound.

“There’s another nightshirt in the drawer,” Alex offers, hoping Burr will understand.

“I’ll get changed and join you in the bed then, shall I?” Burr offers, and Alex smiles, content.

He’s almost asleep when he feels a warm body press against him in the bed, but he snuggles back into Burr anyway, pleased to be pulled close. He falls asleep like that, warm and safe and more content than he’s ever felt in his life.

***

Breakfast this morning might turn out to be the most awkward meal of Eliza Hamilton’s life. Even more than the one when her husband had brought home a woman who’d tried to seduce him for  _ her _ to get to know better. To her father’s home.

She’s glad Maria is here now, because she has no idea what to do. Angelica had spent the night, and she’d stopped them from charging in furiously last night when what she’s fairly sure was the sound of a spanking came from Alexander’s room, which he was sharing with Burr. Now, the five of them are facing one another around the breakfast table.

Maria is coldly furious. Apparently, she’d wrangled some kind of promise out of Burr that he wouldn’t punish Alex further and she felt he’d broken it. She hasn’t spoken a word to anyone since coming downstairs, angry with Angelica for preventing her from intervening and Burr for whatever he may have done to Alex.

Eliza isn’t so sure Maria needs to be upset though, because Alexander is absolutely floaty. She’s not entirely sure her husband has touched the ground all morning, and he isn’t speaking to anyone, just looking softly at Burr every so often. He’s also not eating, which worries her- Alex has told her before that he’d gone hungry often enough as a youngster to never want to experience it again.

Angelica and Burr are watching each other warily, looking like they’re preparing for some sort of Dominant Battle Royale. Eliza sincerely hopes that, if they do start brawling, they at least let the subs leave first. Her sister isn’t supposed to be this reckless, but she’s far more dominant than she lets people think and very protective of Alexander. There have been times when Eliza has wondered if her sister hadn’t been as captivated by Hamilton as she was, the night they met.

All of that leaves Eliza presiding over a very awkward breakfast.

“Did you sleep well, Mr. Burr?” she asks, trying to be a polite hostess.

“Very well, thank you,” Burr tells her. Maria snorts indelicately. “I trust you had a good night?”

“If you don’t count disturbing noises from the other bedroom,” Maria interjects.

“Have I offended you, ma’am?” Burr asks Maria, perfectly polite.

“You hurt him,” Maria accuses, coldly furious. “You  _ hit _ him.”

“This is not suitable breakfast conversation,” Angelica scolds.

Burr turns to the man beside him. “Alex, darling, I need you to rejoin us, please, the girls are worried about you.” He strokes Alex’s hair, and Maria winces when his hand comes close to the other sub’s face. Eliza takes her lover’s hand, squeezing gently to offer what comfort she can.

Alex nuzzles into the touch. “Right here,” he assures Burr.

“You’re not getting any sense out of him this morning. Not if you actually got him to submit- I don’t think he’s been properly under in nearly twenty years,” Angelica says.

Burr’s dark skin blanches. “That’s  _ horrible.” _

“He didn’t tell you? There was only ever John,” Eliza offers, surprised by the other man’s horror.

“A shared point in our history.” Burr takes Alexander’s hand on the table as he continues. “I assumed there’d been casual encounters, if not anything meaningful.”

Angelica shakes her head. “He’s Alexander Hamilton. It would’ve detracted from his legacy, if people found out. He’s remarkably singular when he’s focused.”

“Which reminds me- Alex, love, breakfast,” Burr reminds him. She’s glad the other man has noticed Alex isn’t eating, but worried when he still doesn’t pick up a fork.

“Oh, just feed him for God’s sake,” Angelica snaps. Burr raises an eyebrow, and Maria gets up entirely, leaving the table. They let her go, knowing she needs to be alone to process. Eliza or Alex will comfort her later.

Eliza watches, surprised at the tenderness Burr handles Alex with. He leaves the porridge for now, but tears a piece of bread and offers Alex a bite. Alex takes it delicately, and Burr murmurs something to him too quietly to hear as he continues to feed him bread, adding butter and jam. Eventually, they finish the piece of bread that way and Burr offers Alex his spoon.

“I’d make a mess,” he offers. Alex blinks slowly and takes it, focused on his bowl. When he finishes, he looks up at all of them.

“Where’s Maria?” he asks, surprised.

“She’s… concerned about what happened last night,” Eliza says delicately.

Alexander doesn’t spare his Dom a glance, just gets to his feet and goes after her, pausing in the doorway to offer a slight bow to the room as he retreats. It’s possibly more mannerly than he’d usually be, with Maria upset about something a Dom’s done, but Eliza is worried it doesn’t pass ‘proper submissive’ muster. She looks at Burr worriedly.

“I apologize. I didn’t think of her overhearing. I didn’t honestly think of anyone but Alex last night,” Burr admits, looking at her with earnest concern.

“So you did punish him,” Eliza says delicately, keeping any sort of reaction out of her voice.

“He needed… he asked for absolution. Went on about horse equipment and needing something worse than a carriage whip.” Eliza gasps and Angelica takes her hand. What they’d heard hadn’t sounded like  _ that. _ Alexander will need bandaging. She’s seen his scars, she knows he’s had as bad before, but it sickens her to imagine him hurt like that.

“Spanking him was better than letting all of that fester,” Burr assures her.

“And how exactly are you defining ‘spanking’?” Angelica asks leadingly, her tone dangerously clipped. If Burr’s hurt Alex, Eliza thinks Angelica might just take a carriage whip to  _ him. _

“The usual way, I think. Hand to ass, apply as needed. Pardon my language, Miss Eliza,” Burr tells her politely. “I’m sorry but- I thought you’d overheard?”

“Both of my loves have painful histories at the hands of violent Doms. Maria survived Reynolds, and Alexander says Nevis isn’t nearly so civilized about what to do with orphans old enough to display their orientation. We would’ve stopped you last night if Angelica hadn’t been here. I’m not convinced you weren’t too harsh with him after yesterday’s upsets, but my sister is certain you know what he needs, and as this is something I cannot provide for him, I have to turn him over to your mercies and pray that they are gentle.” Eliza looks Burr in the eye as she finishes, taking the measure of the man.

“I will protect and cherish him for all of the years God sees fit to leave me on this earth to do so,” Burr tells her earnestly. “And I think you and I should talk- Alexander has always been impetuous and prone to blinders. As I navigate this, I would do so in a way that does not harm your household.”

“We have our own bedrooms. You are welcome to join him in his if he invites you. There have been times in the past where he has joined us, for comfort. But that is what Alexander and I are to each other. Comfort. He is the partner I have chosen to go through this life with, but he is not mine romantically and I am not his. He brought Maria into my life because he wanted me to be happy. I cannot keep you from him because I wish him the same,” Eliza admits.

“He loves you furiously,” Burr tells her. “I’ve always known that, and I wouldn’t try to change it.”

“In many ways, he’s as much her protector as I am,” Angelica says.

“And a fierce one,” Burr acknowledges. “Submissive has never meant hesitant or retiring, to Alexander.”

Angelica gives him a long look. “Will that be a problem?”

“In 1776, I made one of the two most rash, irrational decisions of my life. I fell in love. With a pretty sub who bowed to me one moment and publicly called me out the next,” Burr tells them.

“So you’ve loved a spitfire before?” Eliza challenges. “I knew Theodosia, and she was a strong woman. But she’d been raised knowing her place in the world and accepting it. Submission was a core part of how she interacted with the world. I don’t think anybody even  _ taught _ Alexander how to submit, not that he’d have listened.”

“I didn’t meet Theodosia until a few years after that,” Burr tells her with a smile.

“Isn’t 1776 when  _ Alexander _ arrived in America?” Angelica realizes.

Burr nods in acknowledgement. “You read the letter, Angelica. I’ve been his since that night, it’s only taken me until now to gather the courage to claim him.”

“You were married for what, more than a decade?” Eliza asks, offended on her friend’s behalf. Theodosia Provost Burr was no Alex, certainly, but she’d deserved more than a husband biding his time.

Burr smiles at her. “And you’ve been married over two. I was not the great love of Theodosia’s life, nor was her first husband. But her great love was my commander, and I brought her his final goodbyes. We found kinship in what we couldn’t have, and realized we were enough to get each other through. Better to be together, to find love even if it wasn’t passion. I proposed the day after your wedding, Mrs. Hamilton, and my wife knew it, and knew why.”

“And Alexander denied you and pined the whole time. You two  _ are _ a pair,” Angelica muses.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” Burr admits. “But caring for Theodosia wasn’t one of them. I may not have fallen in love the day I met her, but I did fall, and I loved her devotedly.”

“I can understand that,” Eliza says. She loves Alexander, too. Maybe more than she should- if a fellow submissive could make him happy, she’d have been over the moon and Maria never would’ve entered the equation. But he can’t be that for her, and she loves Maria with her whole heart now that she’s found her.

“Me, too,” Angelica admits, and Eliza thinks again about her sister’s face at her wedding. It was one of the happiest days of her life, but she sees now that they’d all three been secretly pining for what Alexander couldn’t give them. And Alexander had, too, for each of them in different ways.

“I am just as devoted to him,” Burr assures them. “He  _ is _ my heart. I understand what he can and can’t offer, as a submissive. I’ll take what he can, encourage him to grow, and never resent him for the man he is.”

“And if you hurt him, we know a lawyer who can beat the murder charge,” Angelica tells him firmly, taking her sister’s hand. It may have been Eliza who took Alex’s name, but he’d become a Schuyler the day they were married, and the sisters protect their own.

“Oh, I have no doubt. I was co counsel on the first one, if you’ll remember,” Burr tells her, nodding in acknowledgment of the threat. “I’d only ask that you give me the chance to give him closure, first.”

“Then I think we’re all agreed, and perhaps we should go enjoy the gardens. Alex and Maria will be out there if they’re ready for company,” Eliza suggests. Maria hides in what was meant to be a gardener’s shed, when she’s afraid. A little space of her own none of them enter without permission. Alex will have gone to her, and if they’re lucky she’s let him in. When he’s sure she’s okay and calm again, they’ll venture into the garden.


	7. Chapter 7: Fears and Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex goes after Maria. Her fears remind him of his own doubts, and he goes looking for reassurance in an unconventional way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of the fic proper. That said, I am kind of feeling the need to peak in on them when Alex is like, "Ummmm.... remember how I haven't submitted properly in TWENTY YEARS? I wanna PLAY!"
> 
> Do you want to see an epilogue?
> 
> I'm working on other fics in the verse- I have one going about the first time they step out publicly at a state function as a couple, and one about life with the Revolutionary Set, and I'm also working on, as requested by Sid (Hi!) how Alex reacts to Washington 'handling' him. I also really want to play more with Maria, and get into TJ/Mads' dynamic.

Alex is up from the table like a shot when he realizes he hadn’t thought of Maria at all, yesterday. However wonderful it had been for him, he’s sure it was like something out of a nightmare for her to witness.

He barely remembers his manners enough to nod on his way out, but he doesn’t truly break his stride. Burr will understand, or if he doesn’t Alex will deal with it later. Right now, Maria comes first. He can’t believe he’s been so careless.

He knocks lightly on the door to the garden shed she retreats to, but there’s no answer. “Ria, it’s me,” he says softly.

“Your  _ Dom _ let you out on your own?” she calls bitterly. The door stays closed.

“He’s having breakfast with the sisters. It’s just me out here, worried about you,” he admits softly.

The shed door opens and Maria pulls him in, her face wet with tears. She hugs him tightly. “God, Alex, you saved me from my Dom, and I couldn’t even protect you in our own home. You shouldn’t be worrying about me, I should be worried about  _ you,” _ she tells him, squeezing him so tightly he can barely breathe. The light streaming in from the high windows should make the room cheerful, but it just emphasizes how afraid the other submissive is for him.

“Maria, breathe. I didn’t need protecting. This is something I want. He’s nothing like Reynolds,” Alex assures her.

“I thought he wasn’t,” Maria admits. “I thought he was one of the good ones, like Angelica. Who doesn’t feel the need to  _ possess _ us, or hurt us. Alex, we’ll get you away from him, I promise.”

“I don’t want to get away. I  _ asked _ to be his, Maria. I begged him to stay,” Alex tells her.

She steps back, staring at him like she’s never met him before. “Why? Why would you do that? You’re  _ independent, _ you’re your own man. People believe you’re a switch- Doms treat you as an  _ equal. _ Why would you give that up?”

It’s like hearing his own fears in another’s voice. “Because I love him, and I want to be his,” he tells her.

“You don’t have to belong to someone to be loved, Alex. You don’t have to give yourself away for a place in the world,” Maria assures him.

“I know, and I haven’t,” he tells her. “Given myself away, I mean. But Maria, I do have to belong to someone to be loved, the way I  _ want _ to be loved. I’m hetero-dynamic. I’ve always wanted to submit, I’ve just been too afraid of it. Burr makes me brave enough to try. He  _ sees _ that it’s brave to try.”

“If he sees that it’s brave, then he knows it’s dangerous,” Maria insists.

“He knows how society treats subs. He understands why I’ve fought this so long. He promised me my  _ words, _ Maria. He won’t interfere with my writing, or my speeches. I still get to be me,” Alexander tells her, taking her hands. Begging her to understand.

“So he’s into it for the sadism, not the control?” How is that better? You say and do what you want and then answer for pissing him off when you get home?” Maria demands. “Trust me, Alex, you’ll lose the  _ desire _ to speak or write. And that’s worse than just not being allowed to.”

Alex hesitates. “It’s not like that, Maria,” he says, but there’s doubt creeping into his voice. “I literally  _ kept him from becoming President _ and he still wants me. He didn’t beat me bloody for it, even when I asked him to because I felt so bad.”

“He’s smart, I’ll give him that. But think, Alex. You’ve known him a quarter of a century. And he  _ broke you down _ yesterday, even if you think he didn’t mean to. I’ve never seen you like that,” she insists.

“I’ve been breaking for a long time, Maria. Yesterday was just… the watershed, where suddenly other people could tell,” Alex tries to explain.

“Even if it wasn’t his fault… he saw that, and suddenly he wanted you. Not when you were strong, or brave, or his equal. He never asked you to be his until he saw you cry, Alex. Are you really going to look at all that and tell me he doesn’t want you broken?” Maria pleads with him, obviously scared. “He’ll break you and he’ll do it so slowly you’ll thank him for it, Alex. And I won’t watch it, I can’t.”

Alex wants to assure her she’s wrong. He wants to be able to tell her he trusts Burr, that Aaron truly loves him and wants what’s best for him. But he  _ doesn’t _ trust his Dom that much. Burr even knows it. Had said last night that, in time, he would earn Alex’s trust. He supposes that, if Maria is right, that’s exactly what the Dom would say- whatever would put him at ease and make him a willing participant in his own unmaking.

Burr had seemed too good to be true, last night. And he knows Maria’s fears sound more plausible than his own hopes. Is he really such a fool that he would throw it all away over his political enemy?

“If that’s what he wants,” Alex says softly, slowly, “Then he is going to  _ regret _ it. I want to be sure… I want this to be real. But if it isn’t? They don’t call me the Little Lion for nothing. I’ll rip him to pieces.”

Maria hugs him. “Don’t let him hurt you just to prove a point, Alex,” she begs.

“I won’t. If he’s underestimated me like you think, it won’t take much to frustrate him into making a mistake. And Angelica’s here. There’s four of us- one a Dom- and one of him. We’ll all be fine,” Alex assures her.

She looks at him for a long moment, then nods and opens the shed door. She leads the way into the garden, keeping a tight grip on his hand. Alex squeezes back, hoping she can’t tell how scared he is.

They find the Doms and Eliza sitting on the garden bench. Burr stands, giving Maria his seat. Alex smiles at his Dom’s chivalry before it occurs to him that the manners are probably only part of the facade. If he’s such a ‘nice man’ no one will ever believe he could be cruel to Alex.

Maybe that’s part of why he picked Alex- he’s known for being temperamental, dramatic, and difficult. No one would ever believe he didn’t deserve it, if Burr went too far. It’s positively cold blooded.

Burr wraps an easy arm around his shoulders, and Alex forces himself not to tense. “I suppose this is what having a Dom is like,” he muses.

“Apparently. Sitting in gardens with beautiful flowers and beautiful women,” Burr says, sounding content.

Alex scoffs. “Watch the fawning, Angelica’s twice the Dom you’ll ever be.”

His sister-in-law shoots him a stern warning look, and Aaron’s hand tightens fractionally on his shoulder. This is his opening, though, and he doubles down.

“Then again, so are most Doms, switches, and some invertebrates. I suppose spineless is the only flavor of Dom I ever could’ve truly stomached,” Alex sneers.

“Alexander! That’s enough,” Burr admonishes him.

“You said I could have my words, Burr. Was that a lie? Am I no longer allowed to speak my mind?” he challenges the Dom.

“You’re the one who said there’s a difference in saying what you believe and just breaking things, and I shouldn’t let you get away with the latter,” Burr tells him, and Alex is surprised- somehow he’s still holding onto that calmly patient facade. Time to push harder. Something’s going to break, here. And Alex barely cares anymore if it’s him, so long as he  _ knows. _

“So now you get to decide what I  _ believe?” _ he challenges, words taut and taunting.

“Is that truly what you believe?” Burr asks him, somehow sounding hurt rather than angry.

“Of course it is. I never would’ve given in to this  _ farce _ with someone I might actually accidentally submit to,” Alex tells him, scoffing.

“Alexander!” This time it’s Angelica who scolds him. Burr just looks stunned.

“This is not your concern,” he tells his sister-in-law coldly. “I like a little pain, is all, Burr. I thought you could give it to me. I should’ve known you’d be too cowardly for even that,” he spits.

He looks over at Maria, and her eyes are shining with terror. She obviously knows what’s coming better than he does. Alex just feels empty. Eliza looks shocked, beside her, the women’s fingers white knuckled where they clutch one another. He has to do this with an audience, because he’s counting on Angelica to save him. Counting on their numbers being enough to force Burr out when he shows his true colors.

“That’s enough,” Burr says firmly. “I think we’d best go somewhere quiet to discuss what’s behind this… outburst.” He searches for a way to describe Alexander’s hateful words, mouth screwing with distaste as he lands on one.

“No.” Shaking in voice and body, Maria speaks up for him. “I’m not letting you take him away. We’re his family- the law is clear. If we think he’s in danger, we can demand to watch.”

“Legally,  _ you  _ have no claim on him at all, Maria,” Aaron tells her, and Alex is shaking now because Burr has always been  _ so good _ at playing his cards close to his chest, he’s not going to let anyone see any cracks until he’s won.

The Dom continues. “But I understand why you’re worried. We will find a way for you to observe but not interfere, so you can see I’m not harming him. Outside the door. You do not enter unless Alex is in actual danger,” he decides.

“That’s fair,” Angelica says, regarding first Maria, then Alex, with an inscrutable stare.

“My shed,” Maria demands, and Alex wants to kiss her, because she’s trying to make sure he’s somewhere  _ safe. _ Even if the shed won’t be safe for her anymore, once this is over. Maria needs small spaces, when she’s afraid. Needs walls so she knows what’s at her back. Needs places free of Doms, that don’t belong to anyone who might try to hurt her.

“Agreed. Alexander, lead the way, please,” Burr instructs. Alex does, feeling cold and very, very alone as he makes the short walk to the shed. Burr gestures for him to go in and he does, waiting while Burr confers with Angelica. The girls draw back, and Burr joins him in the shed, leaving the door open.

The simple building has a wooden floor put in, because Maria kept getting dirt on her dresses. It’s scattered with soft pillows, but no furniture. Burr arranges some of the pillows and sits down, leaning back casually, legs spread. Alex remains standing, awkward and afraid.

“Can you tell me what scared you, sweetheart?” Burr asks gently.

Whatever Alex was expecting, it wasn’t that. “I’m not afraid,” he insists.

“Oh, you aren’t acting out because you’re scared and looking for proof that this was a mistake? My apologies. I suppose I should punish you for your rudeness, then, if there wasn’t a reason for it.” Alexander braces himself. Here they go. “Come here, please,” his Dom requests, gesturing to the floor between his knees.

“I… what?” Alex doesn’t understand.

“Come here,” Burr repeats. “Now, Alexander.”

Wary of making whatever strange torture Burr has thought up worse, Alex comes. He kneels facing the Dom, wondering what Burr’s game is. Presumably, he’s thought of something discrete and painful he can do to Alex, something the girls won’t think to object to. Alex dreads it, rubbing suddenly sweaty palms on his thighs.

“Turn around please, and sit,” Burr tells him. “This floor is too hard for your poor knees.”

Alex does, still confused. He’s tugged back to lean against the Dom’s chest. Burr’s legs bracket his own, and he’s just… being held? His heart rate quickens, terrified for whatever is coming, that the Dom needs to hold him down for.

“Shh, breathe, Alex,” Burr tells him, stroking his arm.

“I believe you said something about punishment?” he sneers.

“This is it,” Burr tells him. “If you really think as little of me as you said you did, sitting here with me like this will be miserable. And I don’t want you to speak again, unless it's your safeword. Unless you think of something else that’s going on today that you’re worried about, something that maybe you need to talk to me about.”

Alex’s body remains rigidly tense in the Dom’s arms. There must be a trick here- forcing him to safeword from  _ nothing, _ so he feels weak? He’s not known for his patience, maybe that’s it.

“I’m not going to safeword,” he challenges.

“Good. I hope it’s because you don’t feel like you need to,” Burr tells him, stroking his shoulder softly.

“You think you can push me past what I can take, but you can’t. I won’t break,” Alex insists.

“Your safeword isn’t for when you’re going to break. It’s for when you’re not okay. So I can fix it, remember?” Burr tells him gently.

“This entire relationship is meant to be based on you getting to decide what I  _ endure _ whether I’m okay or not, isn’t it?” Alex challenges.

“Alex,” Burr says patiently, “Last night when I spanked you, I know it hurt. But did you feel unsafe? Like you were in danger?”

“Almost. When you talked about kneeling. But you stopped, so we could talk. I didn’t safeword,” Alex reminds him.

“I could tell you were upset. Not ‘I let my Dom down’ upset, or ‘This hurts’ upset, but genuinely unsettled and afraid. So I stopped, so I could take care of you,” Burr tells him. “Sometimes, spanking you  _ is _ taking care of you, but it wasn’t right then, so I stopped.”

That makes sense, if Alexander takes Burr at his word. But it also falls under ‘too good to be true’, so he looks for the angle, sitting up to crow when he finds one.

“Is that your thing?” he demands. “Convincing me you have to hurt me to  _ take care of me _ and then getting me to beg for it?”

“Alexander, if you enjoy begging in the bedroom, that’s one thing. If you don’t, you should never have to beg me to get what you need,” Burr tells him. “Telling me what you need and why should be enough. Explaining if I don’t understand.”

“Well, then,  _ Aaron, _ I  _ need _ to know why you never wanted me until you saw me breaking? Why was it only when I hit a low point that I became desirable to you?” he challenges.

“I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. I never told you because I went about it so wrong that first day, and you said you’d never consider it. I almost said something the day you married Eliza. You told me if I wanted Theodosia I should go get her, and all I could think was that I wanted  _ you. _ I proposed to her the next day, and she knew how I felt about her, and about you. I thought extraordinary love was beyond me, so I settled for ordinary love, and happiness. I don’t regret it- that would be regretting Theo. But I never stopped loving you,” Burr tells him.

That… if that’s true, Alexander is an idiot. It matches, it makes sense, but it can’t be true. He doesn’t understand. Does Burr want to hurt him, or does he love him? Alex knows both can’t be true. His mind believes one thing, but his heart believes the other. He runs his fingers through his hair, gripping it. He doesn’t know what to  _ do. _

“Hey, hey, hey,” Burr says softly, gently untangling his fingers from his hair and gripping Alex’s hands in his own. “None of that, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

“Just stop. Stop! It’s all wrong, it doesn’t make sense, everything was okay until I  _ thought _ about it. I can’t stop thinking,” Alex laments, increasingly upset.

“Okay. Okay, Alexander, it’s going to be okay. Stand up for a moment for me.” Alex does, pathetically grateful for the instruction. Burr rearranges the pillows so that two of them are touching on the floor. “Kneel there, facing me,” he says and Alex does, because at this point, if Burr destroys him at least this awful slip and slide of hope and fear will be  _ over. _

He’s shocked when  _ Burr _ kneels on the other one, settling easily so that their knees are touching. He leans in, touching their foreheads and tangling their fingers together. “Close your eyes,” Burr says, doing it as he speaks.

Alex closes his eyes. “Good. Deep breaths,” Burr instructs. Alex takes a few deep breaths. “Focus. When I squeeze your hand, you squeeze my other one. It’s a circle. But I’m not going to be regular about it. Focus, so you can squeeze back as soon as I squeeze.”

Alexander latches on to the simple instruction, his whole body focused on the point where Burr’s hands touch his. The Dom squeezes, and Alex returns the squeeze. Again. And again, and again. Once he thinks he’s got the rhythm, his mind begins to drift. Then Burr squeezes the other hand.

It only throws him for a second, and then he squeezes back with the opposite. “Good. Good boy,” Burr tells him. Alex relaxes fractionally.

The squeezes continue steadily, sometimes coming from the other direction. Gradually, Alex realizes they sync up with Burr’s exhales and times his breathing to match the other man’s. Eventually, he doesn’t have to think about it any more, his breaths come automatically and his hands complete the squeeze before he can process it. But worry doesn’t crowd in to take its place. Instead, he feels calm. At peace.

Finally, Burr brings their joined hands to rest in their laps. He sits back far enough to open his eyes and see Alex, and Alex feels the motion and mimics it. “Hey,” Burr says softly.

“Hey,” Alex answers.

“How do you feel?” Burr asks him.

Alex feels around for a word in his brain, tasting it on his tongue before offering, “Centered.”

“Good. You did so well, Alex. I’m proud of you,” Burr tells him.

Alex feels himself warm with the praise. “Thank you sir,” he says softly. He doesn’t know where the ‘sir’ comes from, but it feels right, deep in his gut.

“Thank  _ you, _ Alex,” Burr tells him warmly. “It wasn’t easy to step back and let me help, but you did it. You did it beautifully.”

Alex sways forward. Wants a hug. Doesn’t know if he can ask, if he should just reach out. Burr smiles at him. “Let me fix the pillows,” he says, so apparently the Dom gets it.

This time, Alex eagerly settles between Burr’s legs as soon as he’s seated. The other man lets out a surprised little, “”Oof,” as he leans into him. Alex burrows closer, turning so he doesn’t have to look out the door and risk seeing Maria’s doubts. He settles with his ear on his Dom’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Burr wraps warm arms around him, holding him close. “It’s alright to be unsure. Even afraid of me,” Aaron tells him. “However long we’ve known each other, you’ve never really known  _ anyone _ like this. And none of the people closest to you have positive experiences to share.”

That sounds like Burr has worked out what accounts for his changed mood, this morning. “Not her fault,” he says softly, not wanting his Dom angry with Maria for trying to protect him.

“No,” Burr agrees quietly, “It isn’t. It’s the fault of every Dom who ever hurt her, or knew she was being hurt and did nothing. She deserved better.  _ You _ deserve better.”

“I wanted to reinvent myself when I got to America, because things were so bad on Nevis. I know it wasn’t  _ just _ because I was a sub- I was a poor, bastard, orphan sub- but it didn’t help. When my cousin… died… they put me with my boss and… nothing I said or thought or did mattered, because I was a sub. I just wanted to matter,” Alexander confesses. He never speaks of those days, but he thinks maybe he can trust Burr with them.

“Look around at what you’ve built, Alexander. The Treasury, the Coast Guard, the New York Post… the Constitution might never have passed without you,” Burr reassures him.

Alex shakes his head. “As a switch. I did all of those things when the people I needed to listen believed I had some shred of dominance in me. The revolutionary set knew, but they pretended not to. Washington knew- he’s probably the only reason I never burned up in my own flames. The girls know, but they love me. And you know. I used to pretend you didn’t, but you always have.” And that’s a terrifying thought.

“And I love you. Don’t forget that, Alexander,” Burr tells him gently, tilting his face up and kissing him deeply. Somehow, Alex had forgotten since last night what it feels like to be kissed by Burr. He’s not being plundered, or ravaged. He’s being  _ explored. _ Savored. Cherished. He can’t help it, he melts under it completely.

When they pull apart, he looks deeply at Burr- his first friend, his recent enemy- and confesses, “I think I love you, too.” And that’s the most terrifying thought of all. He’d said it before, to Maria, but he hadn’t admitted it to Burr yet. He’s surprised by the reaction the statement gets.

The Dom curls around him, pulling him impossibly closer. He presses their cheeks together, wrapping a hand around the back of Alex’s head. He  _ clings. _ “I’ll spend the rest of my life earning it, Alex,” he says softly, like a prayer.

Burr needs him as much as he needs Burr. He hadn’t considered that, before. If that’s true… then he’s safe. Hurting him would hurt his Dom. He’s safe.

The tension floods out of him and he clings to Burr just as hard. They stay wrapped around one another for a long time. When they get up, Alex is surprised to realize they’re alone in the garden.

“Come on, I’d bet they’re inside,” Burr says, and holds out his hand.

Alex takes it. Hand in hand, he walks with Burr into the house. Like lovers. Like partners. Their dynamic secondary to their bond. It feels right.


	8. Epilogue!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Aaron know what they want, and they've got it. Now, they finally get to enjoy it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the epilogue!!!! This is... um.... more sexual than I usually write? But briefly. TBH, Alex REALLY wanted to get laid, but he also just... really wanted his 'family'. And Maria is a terrible influence and I love her so much. See the end of the story for what's coming next, please!!!

The next few days pass in a sweet blur. Aaron spends the night again twice more, then returns to his own home the next night to allow the Hamilton/Reynolds household time to themselves. The next day, he receives an invitation- from Maria, of all people- to join them all for dinner.

Alex is pleased to see him. “Aaron!” he says, answering the door himself. He kisses his Dom before taking his hat.

Burr can hardly believe that, only a couple of days ago, he was wishing he’d one day be able to hear his name fondly in the other man’s voice. He kisses Alex back. “I’ve missed you,” he says, pulling his sub back to him for a hug once his hat has been hung.

“I know. Me, too,” Alex admits, shy. He pulls back to look at Burr. “And I was thinking… we haven’t had any  _ fun _ yet, we’ve been busy dealing with feelings, and adjusting. Maybe I could come home with you tonight?”

Aaron brings his sub’s knuckles to his lips, kissing them softly. “I’d like that very much,” he agrees. He shivers at the anticipatory heat in Alex’s eyes.

Before they can say anything else, the girls come to greet him. “Aaron, welcome!” Eliza says, curtseying prettily.

“It’s nice to see you, Mrs. Hamilton. Ms. Reynolds. Thank you for the invitation,” Burr says. Alex smiles mischievously and keeps their hands joined, not letting Aaron release him to greet the girls properly.

Eliza rolls her eyes. “Alex, behave, and let the poor man come inside and have a seat!” Her tone is fond- she’s obviously pleased to see Alex happy.

“Yes, Alex,  _ share,” _ Maria teases him, stepping forward. Aaron smiles at her, open and friendly, waiting to see how comfortable she is. They’d been close once, and worked together quite closely on her divorce, but he knows it’s different, seeing him as Alex’s Dom not her lawyer and friend.

But she comes forward to greet him easily, her misgivings from a few days ago temporarily stored even if they aren’t fully gone. Aaron knows she’ll likely always be wary of him, and that it’s truly nothing personal. Still, he’s glad to still have her friendship as she hugs him lightly. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Burr.”

“How many times are you going to make me ask you to call me Aaron?” he says fondly as she steps back. It’s an old disagreement.

“I think maybe it’s time we  _ all _ dispense with the formalities, Aaron. Given the changing landscape of our family,” Eliza says, smiling as she wraps her arm through Maria’s elbow.

“I think you might be right, Eliza,” he says, touched.

“Family calls her Betsy,” Alex tells him quietly. He’s still got hold of Aaron’s hand, and Aaron uses it to tug him close enough to wrap an arm around his waist.

“It’s an honor, Betsy. Maria?” he asks it, giving her the option of holding onto the boundary.

“I suppose it only makes sense, Aaron,” she says. “As long as you’re doing the same.”

He feels like he’s been accepted into something special and lovely. He smiles, leaning against Alex. This thing between them is new, but it isn’t fragile. They’ve spent years building up to it, and now that it’s finally here it’s like coming home. The girls’ clear belief that he’s here to stay only makes him feel more sure that Alex is as serious as he is.

“Now,” Eliza says, smiling at all of them fondly, “Shall we be civilized and go sit in the parlor?”

They all follow Eliza, Alex releasing Aaron so they can walk and briefly gripping Maria’s hand. His sub is obviously pleased that the other submissive is comfortable with his Dom. Aaron and Eliza share a smile at seeing his happiness.

In the parlor, Eliza settles in the middle of the settee. Alex curls up immediately on one side of her. Maria looks briefly concerned as she takes the other side. Aaron smiles at her reassuringly as he sits in the chair nearest Alex.

Alex frowns. “We need a bigger settee,” he decides.

“Most people don’t try to get everyone they know onto one piece of furniture,” Maria teases him.

“Not  _ everyone, _ but it’d be nice if Angelica fit, too,” Alex muses wistfully.

Aaron chuckles, getting up and coming to perch on the arm of the settee nearest Alex, putting a hand on his shoulder for balance. “Better?” he asks.

“Much,” Alex says, leaning against him happily.

“Oh, Aaron, I almost forgot- would you like something to drink?” Eliza offers.

“I’ll get them.” Maria is probably the person who can most easily extricate herself, and she does now, getting up to fetch drinks. “We have the things for a punch, if you’d like?”

“That sounds lovely, thank you Maria,” Burr tells her.

“Rum, ‘Ria.  _ Rum. _ Please make a proper punch,” Alexander calls.

“If you want to tear yourself out of your cuddle and help, you get a say. Otherwise, you drink what I make,” Maria tells him with a laugh.

“Like I’m the only one around here who nests,” Alex says, laughing easily.

“Yes, and when I’m nesting the drinks are invariably rum based, because you’re mixing. If I feel like whiskey, we’ll have whiskey,” she tells him, leaving for the kitchen before he can argue.

“We didn’t even ask, Aaron, did you have a preference?” Eliza asks, craning her neck to look past Alex.

“I’m fine with either. One of these days when they’re  _ both _ nesting you can keep them company and I’ll make sangaree,” he offers easily, fingers playing absently with Alexander’s loose hair.

Alex looks at him, surprised. “It was a favorite of Theodosia’s, from her time in England. I understand it’s popular in the islands as well,” Burr tells him. He’d thought Alex would probably like the Madeira based drink.

“Did you know the name means blood?” Alex asks idly, threading their fingers. Eliza rests an elbow on her husband’s shoulder, twisting to lean against him. It’s very domestic. Burr is quietly delighted to be part of it.

Maria returns a few minutes later carrying a tray of cups, followed by a servant girl with a punch bowl. They set the bowl on the sideboard, and Maria begins pouring. She brings Burr the first glass, as the guest, handing Eliza one as well.

Alex steals his cup to sniff it, crowing, “Ha! I knew you loved me!”

Aaron steals his cup back as Maria brings Alex his own. She leans down from behind the couch, kissing his cheek as she gives him a drink. “I suppose,” she admits. Aaron smiles as he sips his drink- rum, as Alex requested. Also a delicious mix of spices, tea, and citrus.

Maria brings her own cup back to her seat at the other end of the couch, leaning her back against Eliza comfortably. “You spoil him,” Eliza tells her, smiling as she runs her fingers through Maria’s hair.

“It takes so little to make him happy,” she agrees.

“How am I expected to create order, with you two giving in to each other’s every whim?” Eliza laments theatrically. “I’m afraid we are not a well run household, Aaron. You may despair of us.”

“I’m afraid I’m only going to make things worse, Betsy. I find that I’m unable to resist giving in to him most of the time, myself, and Maria’s had me exactly where she wants me for years,” Aaron tells her with a smile.

Alex twists to look at his Dom. “You already knew ‘Ria when I brought her to you to do her divorce. She’s said so, but she’s never explained how.”

Aaron looks over at Maria, raising an eyebrow. She’s turned over her shoulder to look at him nervously, but she nods, biting her lip and curling against Eliza. So she’d rather he explain. Burr takes a long sip of his drink, looking for words.

“She was Theo’s governess for a short time. Right after we lost her mother. Maria was… a great comfort, and we both considered her a part of the family. I often wish I had pushed harder when James forced her to quit us.” Aaron looks up at her as he finishes, sincere. “I tried, as I often have with you, to let her make her own choices when what she needed was my unhesitating support. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you then, Maria,” he says softly.

“If you had, I’d never have found Betsy,” Maria admits. “It wasn’t a  _ good _ time in my life, but it wasn’t your responsibility, Aaron. I was never your sub, even in play. And your help could well have made things worse. It was Theo, who gave me the courage to stay with Betsy. The memory of her.”

Eliza tightens her grip on her lover. Maria drains her cup, getting up to refill everyone’s as she speaks. No one comments on the clear distancing- Eliza and Alex have been patiently letting her handle her history her own way for years.

“You raised her to be  _ happy. _ She’s a Dom, and little girls from families like yours aren’t Doms, it just isn’t done. Even Angelica says she’s a switch, and she’s the most Dominant person I know. But you told her that being true to herself came first. That she couldn’t be happy unless she was.” Alexander startles at those words, deliberately not looking at his Dom.

Maria finishes passing out refilled cups and rejoins them on the couch, taking Eliza’s hands into her lap and turning against the arm of the settee to face the group. “Not only was my husband abusive, but I was going to be unhappy with  _ any _ Dom. That’s why when he sent me out to…” She can’t say it, and Eliza touches her face gently, comforting. Maria leans into the touch, closing her eyes briefly, then looks up and continues.

“I thought, since Alex is a switch, we might actually be happy if I could seduce him. I even tried to tell him.” She laughs. “I had  _ no idea.” _

“I brought her home to Betsy that night- to her  _ father’s _ home, upstate,” Alex remembers, shaking his head at his own daring. Because of course Alex  _ isn’t _ a switch, and Maria wasn’t the first beautiful, brilliant, homo-dynamic submissive he’d met.

“And I’ve been trying to manage the both of them ever since,” Eliza says with a smile. “We’ve been happy, a house full of subs who love each other in different ways.”

“I’d rather hide and have what I want than be publicly, openly miserable,” Maria explains.

“I admire the way you’ve all made it work.I hope we’re able to maintain that balance,” Burr tells her. He has worried about that- pulling Alexander away too much or not having him enough to be happy. He isn’t sure which would be worse.

“All kidding aside, I am actually looking forward to having a partner in taking care of these two. It’s been better, with Angelica back in the States, but she’s still on the outside in some ways. And other than her, you’re the Dom  _ both _ of my suspicious loves trust most,” Eliza tells him. For all that she’s totally disinterested in Dominants romantically and sexually, she does seem to be the most comfortable with the idea of them. It probably helps Alex feel more secure, with how much he wants to submit. His wife can’t give him that, but she’s not afraid for him to seek it out.

“You didn’t know you were getting a whole family, did you?” Alex asks. He snuggles against Burr, but there’s insecurity there- he’s obviously worried the ‘family’ is more than Aaron is ready to sign on for.

Aaron wraps his arms around his sub’s waist, leaning to rest his chin on the top of Alex’s head. “It’s nice,” he says. “I’ll be forever in Eliza’s debt for allowing me to be a part of your life. And I’ve missed having a family, with Theodosia gone and Theo newly married and off in South Carolina.”

“I’d love to see her, one day,” Maria says wistfully.

“We’ll do dinner the next time she’s in town. She’d be thrilled. Either you can join me and her at our house or…” Burr doesn’t know if it would be overstepping to suggest Alex, and Eliza if she’s interested, spend time with his daughter. But Theo wouldn’t judge, and she’d love to meet Alex and know he’s happy.

“Do you think, one day, I could… I mean, I met her when she was a child, of course. She wouldn’t have to know,” Alex asks.

“I didn’t want to assume,” Aaron says. “She’d like it, knowing I’m not alone.”

“Then we’ll have her here, if that’s alright with you. Introduce her to the family,” Eliza says, reaching across Alex to put a hand over one of Aaron’s.

“I’d like that very much,” he says with a smile. It’s nice, being part of something again.

Alex twists to kiss Burr. “Thank you,” he says softly.

Burr pulls him in for a longer kiss. “No, thank you.”

Alex looks at him, soft and fond, then shifts to stand. “Who needs more punch?” he asks. Aaron passes him his glass. Maria drains hers and passes it over, and Eliza waves him off.

Aaron had been leaning on Alex, and he slides onto the seat of the couch when Alex stands. He finds himself too comfortable to care. Eliza pats his head fondly. “This is why we don’t usually let Maria make the punch. I think she waters it down with more rum, instead of water.”

“There’s tea and fruit in there, too,” Maria assures him with a wave of her hand. “That’s what ‘to taste’ means in a recipe, right? Add mixer just until you can taste it?”

Alex laughs heartily as he passes her a new drink. “Only you, ‘Ria.”

Aaron tries to wave off a refill, with this information. But Alex pushes it on him anyway. “It’s rude to leave a punchbowl undrunk, Mr. Vice President. You wouldn’t want to insult the ladies of the house, would you?” he teases.

Burr tries to glare at him properly. Eliza pets him again, which probably ruins the seriousness of it. “You’re going to pay for that later,” he tells his sub.

“Promises, promises,” Alexander says with a laugh. “Hey, there’s no room for me anymore!” he says in mock affront, coming to stand in front of the settee.

“You’ll just have to get creative,” Eliza tells him.

“That, I can do,” he says, handing Maria his drink. Alex flops gracelessly across Burr and Eliza on his back, his legs hanging off of the arm of the settee. Maria passes him his drink back.

“A fine solution,” Burr tells him supportively. He rests a warm hand on his sub’s stomach, idly tracing patterns around the buttons of his vest.

Eliza has taken advantage of her husband’s new position and is now playing with his hair. He practically purrs. “This is nice. Everybody, getting along,” Alex tells them.

“You and Betsy somehow have an infinite capacity to fit new people into your world,” Maria tells him. “It’s really something.”

“I am going to insist we actually eat dinner, at some point,” Eliza tells them. “We did invite Aaron over with the promise to feed him, even if you had nefarious nesting purposes.”

“I’m comfy right here, honestly,” Aaron admits, dimly aware that he’s cuddled up to his sub’s wife and that that should probably be odd. Somehow, knowing she’s utterly uninterested in Doms, as is her lover, the closeness doesn’t feel taboo or charged. Just warm.

“Keep drinking,” Maria advises sagely. “Betsy will be cross if we don’t have her dinner party.”

“Ooh, Aaron. I have something very important to tell you,” Alex says, propping himself up on his elbows. His wife smiles down at him indulgently, as does Aaron. He’s just too adorable.

“Yes, Alex?” he asks, when his sub doesn’t continue.

“You are my Dom, and that’s very nice and good. But Betsy is  _ absolutely _ the boss of me,” he tells his Dom seriously. “I think she’s the boss of you now, too.” He seems to consider this as he flops back flat onto his back.

“Eliza has to be the boss of everyone, because if we left Alex to his own devices nothing but politics would get done,” Maria explains.

“A terrifying thought, I’m sure,” Aaron agrees.

“They make me sound so ridiculous. All I’m trying to do is keep everyone fed, dressed, and alive!” Eliza says with a laugh.

“That sounds like a pretty major task. I will do my best to help,” Burr tells her seriously. They share a smile across Alex, who splutters.

“Wait, you’re not supposed to  _ team up!” _ he insists.

“Too late,” Eliza tells him, stroking his hair. “We love you, we’re going to take care of you whether you like it or not.”

“As am I,” Maria says, “by getting you more punch.”

Aaron waves her off when she reaches out for his cup, and she and Alexander wind up splitting the rest of the punch. They’re positively giggly when Maria declares the punch finished and announces they can have dinner.

Dinner turns out to be an equally giggly affair. Aaron announces that he and Alex will  _ not _ be drinking wine with their meals. Alex sputters at this, but acquiesces more gracefully than the Dom might have expected. It’s easier when Eliza decides they’re all going to switch to water. She shoots Burr a knowing look, obviously guessing why he wants her husband to sober up a bit over dinner.

Eliza had apparently designed the menu knowing her lovers would try to get them all drunk beforehand, and it’s delicious comfort food, with plenty of bread to soak up some of the alcohol in their systems.

They giggle and chat about nothing of consequence over dinner, then retreat back to the parlor with coffee afterwards. Alex and Maria are sleepy now, rather than drunk, and Aaron pulls his sub to join him in the armchair rather than trying to get them all back on the settee.

Alex settles in his lap happily, curling close. “He’s going to fall asleep on top of you,” Maria observes, looking surprised. Possibly that Aaron doesn’t mind- maybe even that Alex feels safe enough to do so.

“I’ll get him to bed once I’ve finished my coffee. Alex, sweetheart, I don’t think you’re up for a sleepover tonight, after all,” Burr tells his love. He doesn’t want to haul Alex out of the house just to have him fall asleep in a carriage, and trying to get him to walk back to Burr’s at this point is a lost cause. They’ll have their fun another night.

“If I’m not going, you’re staying, right?” Alex asks him sweetly, nuzzling against his neck.

Burr honestly hadn’t considered it, but the answer is immediately obvious. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“We’ll do a late breakfast tomorrow,” Eliza decides. She looks at Maria, who is settled against her side on the settee. Maria raises an eyebrow, and she amends her statement. “A very late breakfast.”

Aaron drains the last of his coffee. “Alex, darling, I think it’s about time we headed to bed,” he tells his sub. “Tell the girls goodnight.”

Alex grumbles, but pulls himself to his feet. He kisses Maria on the cheek and Eliza on the lips. “Love you both. Goodnight.”

Aaron wonders if he should feel threatened by his sub’s easy affection with the women. He doesn’t- it’s been made very clear that they have an incredibly special, important bond. And that their bond has nothing to do with his own relationship with Alexander.

Alex leans on him as they make their way up the stairs. He’s tired and pliant, and Burr smiles into his hair as he guides Alexander to his bedroom.

His sub is sweet and obedient as he helps him out of his clothes, only to look at him in surprise when he tries to offer Alex a nightshirt from the drawer. “I’m not sleepy yet,” Alex tells him, pushing himself up from where he’d been seated on the bed to begin working at his Dom’s vest buttons.

“Alex!” Burr says, laughing as he bats his hands away. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” Alex challenges, still making a valiant attempt to undress Burr.

“Because your wife and her lover are in the next bedroom, and we have learned the hard way that sound travels,” Burr reminds him, taking Alex’s hands in his own to stop his efforts. “Another time, when you haven’t had so much to drink, we’ll go back to my house.”

Alex looks at him with wide, sad eyes. “Are you mad at me for drinking so much?” he asks.

The eyes are really unfair. Burr assures him, “Not at all. I had a lovely time tonight, and I think getting us all a little drunk made the evening easier. It was a good idea, sweetheart. But you were in no state to go back to my house, and we can’t disturb the girls.”

“I’ll be very, very quiet,” Alex promises him winningly. All traces of sleepiness from before have somehow vanished. Aaron isn’t a fool- he knows this renewed energy won’t last long. Alex is still at least a little intoxicated, not to mention tired. But perhaps they can have  _ some _ fun tonight.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he decides. “You’re going to lay on the bed. On your stomach. I’m going to finish getting undressed and join you. And if you make  _ any _ noise, even the slightest peep, we stop. That’s the game, sweetheart. Silence. Do you still want to play?” he asks. If this is going to be too much for his sub and frustrate him, he doesn’t want to start it. He doesn’t know yet how vocal Alexander is in bed. But it will be an interesting challenge, if Alex is willing.

Alex throws himself down on the bed, bouncing slightly. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Burr says with a smile. “Alex? Obviously, your safeword still applies. Say Princeton and I stop. And you won’t be punished if you make noise, we’re just going to stop. We’ll pick back up later and you’ll still be my gorgeous, good boy.”

Alex nods in acknowledgement of his instructions. “Good boy,” Burr tells him as he continues undressing, laying his clothing carefully over the chair near the bed. “Now, since we’re having a quiet night, I’m going to take my time and do some exploring.”

He settles on Alexander, straddling his sub’s thighs. He regards the pale expanse of Alexander’s back, noticing a few faint, trailing scars. It’s not unusual for a sub Alex’s age to have a few marks from hard play, but Aaron knows how old most of these are and that they weren’t given for fun or even rightful discipline. He kisses the nearest mark, surprised at the intake of breath it gets.

“Ooh, careful now. Stay quiet for me,” he reminds his sub, tracing the mark with his tongue. Alex stays silent. Aaron works his way down Alexander’s back, loving each old mark and hopefully showing Alexander how much he loves him, past and all.

When he finishes with Alexander’s back, he considers his sub’s backside. “I’d like to raise a little color here,” he whispers to Alexander, squeezing his cheeks, “but I did say we were being quiet.” He spreads Alex’s cheeks and runs his thumb across the sub’s opening, feeling the way Alexander’s breath stutters.

“I won’t tease you too much when you can’t make noise,” he assures his sub, moving his exploration lower. He finds a sensitive spot on Alexander’s inner thigh that is very interesting indeed. Alex clenches his muscles and breathes very deliberately when he kisses, bites and sucks at the spot, confirming the effects it has. He notes that reaction for further study later for sure, then continues his exploration. Alexander loves the contact, it’s clear from the way he arches into it, but he doesn’t discover any more shockingly sensitive spots.

Alex’s feet do turn out to be ticklish, and he quickly leaves them alone, not wanting to torture his sub, who is shaking with silent laughter. “Alright, alright, I’ll lay off. Turn over for me,” he instructs, leaning back where he’s kneeling beside Alex’s legs so he has room to do so.

Alexander rolls obediently onto his back, staring up at him with sleepy eyes full of heat and affection. Burr forgets what he’d meant to do next and spends several minutes just kissing his submissive deeply.

When he leans back, he whispers, “I’m sure there was some moaning, there, but I’m not sure if it was you or me, so I’ll let it slide.” Alexander’s eyes seem to proclaim his innocence, and Burr chuckles softly. “Be good for me,” he warns, then continues his explorations of his sub’s body.

Alexander doesn’t react particularly strongly to lips, tongue, or fingers on his chest, but Burr finds a spot on his sub’s hip that brings his back up off of the bed. Somehow, Alex manages to stay silent.

“That was a truly impressive bit of restraint. Good boy,” he tells Alex. He skips over his sub’s genitals for now, finding the spot on his inner thigh he’d toyed with earlier and brushing it with his fingers as he sets out to find what turns out to be a matching spot on the other hip.

When he’s done with his explorations, Alexander is a glassy eyed, sweaty mess. “You’ve been so good for me,” he tells his sub. “You haven’t made any noise. Do you think you can be quiet a little longer?” he asks.

Alex nods eagerly. Burr shifts his sub onto his side, stretching out beside him. “Good,” he says. “Because I’m going to make us both feel very good, and it’s very, very important that you stay quiet while I do, okay?”

Alex smiles at him. Deciding not to take any chances, Aaron claims his sub’s mouth with his own before wrapping a hand around both of their members. He uses the even, gradually quickening pressure he uses for himself, working them together and kissing Alex deeply, exploring his mouth at the same time.

Alex remains quiet even as his hips begin moving desperately, trying to amplify the sensation of Burr’s hand. Burr speeds up, tightening his grip slightly, and it turns out to be his  _ own _ moans the kiss muffles as he comes.

Alex is just behind him, and Aaron has the unique pleasure of watching his sub come undone in his arms for the first time. Alex somehow remains silent through his orgasm, collapsing against Aaron’s shoulder once he’s sated.

Aaron remembers how long it’s been since Alex submitted, and he takes extra care with his sub now. “You,” he whispers, kissing Alexander, “Are,” another small kiss, “without a doubt,” he kisses a path along his sub’s jaw, “the most beautiful, perfect thing I have ever seen.”

Alex melts into the praise. “You did so beautifully for me. Simply wonderful,” Burr tells him, kissing him again. “I’m going to get a cloth from the basin to clean us up, you just stay here for me, precious.”

He dampens a cloth with water from the pitcher, wringing it out and warming it in his hands before he returns to the bed. Alexander is still lying there, now pushed up on his elbows. “How are you feeling?” he asks his sub gently. Then, he remembers his instructions from earlier. “And you can speak now, but we should still be quiet.”

“I feel… good,” Alex tells him slowly. “Next time, can I touch you?” he requests.

Burr smiles at him. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

It wasn’t much, as far as scenes go. But for a sleepy, drunken evening, it was perfect. It makes him happy that Alex can submit for him casually, not just for big, organized scenes or punishment. His sub isn’t down  _ deep, _ but he’d obviously dropped a little, and that casual trust means the world to Burr. 

“The second benefit to what we just did is that now, when I do get you home with me, I know exactly where to play,” he tells his sub, rejoining him on the bed and gently wiping off the mess between them. “You just gave me all the clues I need to drive you absolutely wild.”

Alex smiles sleepily against him. “I can’t wait.”

The sub, who apparently has a propensity for cuddles that he never would’ve expected a week ago, curls around him as soon as he’s clean. Aaron had really intended to get them both into nightshirts, but he settles for getting them under the covers, so they won’t catch cold. Alex ‘mmm’s in pleased satisfaction, already mostly asleep, and nuzzles closer to Burr as he extinguishes the lamp.

Aaron pulls Alex just a little closer and kisses his hair. As he drifts off to sleep, he thinks about the long, circular journey that got them here, amazed that somehow it’s all been worth it. He'd never have guessed, that first night, how many years of missed opportunities and heartache they’d put between them. But tonight they’ve finally come full circle. They are absolutely, definitely, exactly where he’d wanted to be, the night Alex had started it all with his excited, nervous, “Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?”

And Aaron wouldn’t change a minute of it. Not his own mistakes that night, which gave them time to grow apart and grow as men. Not the fear of the war, always worried Alex would die on a battlefield somewhere outside of his reach, where his sub learned to believe in himself. Not their marriages to beautiful, wonderful women who they’d loved and found solace in, worth it not just for those relationships but the perfect children they’d been granted. Not even the years he’d felt outside the inner circle of their nation’s politics, when Alex had been able to shine so beautifully. Not even the election, because it was always going to take a cataclysmic shift to knock them back onto the same orbit, and he’d give up ever being involved in politics again, just to spend the rest of his life having nights like this.

Aaron Burr doesn’t regret a moment of it. He just vows to enjoy every moment they have left. He's finally found something worth fighting and living and dying for, and he's never letting Alex go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, guys, I am officially marking this as a series. I'm not going chronologically- the next thing is a peak at Washington and how he helped take care of Alex. Sid requested it and has been such a great support, I wanted to write it for them! Then, we're probably jumping back to this wonderful future where ALEX DIDN'T DIE and finding out what he'd be like, committed to the VP. Which means it's Time For TJ! 
> 
> I'm actually really excited about playing with Jefferson and Madison entering the picture. But I'm probably going to bounce back and forth. We will have fics that take place in the twenty five year time jump within this fic. We will also have fics that continue into the future. I have not yet figured out how to mark all of those. I'm almost considering making it two series in AO3, with this as the first fic in both- one series for past vignettes, and one chronological series continuing from now. All of them as part of this Verse. Totally interested in hearing how you think I should organize it, as well as what moments YOU want to see! (And obviously what you think of this!)
> 
> Thank you guys, who've stuck with me and read this whole thing. My first foray into a D/s verse has been A LOT OF FUN to write!

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of this is background for this particular fic, but a large universe of this story has unfolded in my brain:  
> Alexander Hamilton- sub, living publicly as a switch  
> Aaron Burr- Dom  
> Eliza Schuyler- sub, homo dynamic (only likes other subs)  
> Angelica Schuyler- Dom, living publicly as a switch  
> Hercules Mulligan- Dom, bi dynamic (likes subs, but also likes other Doms)  
> John Laurens- Switch  
> Lafayette- Nondynamic  
> Maria Reynolds- sub, homo dynamic
> 
> Gender is less of a concern than dynamic in this verse, so bi and homo dynamic individuals are the ones who deal with the stigma associated at the time with homosexuality. It's not a major factor in this fic, but definitely part of their lives.


End file.
